


Worst and Best of Times

by SadinaSaphrite, tearsontherocks



Series: Best Laid Plans of Meowth and Men [2]
Category: Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Coworkers to lovers, Drunk karaoke, Embarrassment, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, M/M, Medium Burn, Oral Sex, Pining, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:40:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23979901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SadinaSaphrite/pseuds/SadinaSaphrite, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tearsontherocks/pseuds/tearsontherocks
Summary: Raihan knew he had to see Piers perform live, and clandestinely bought a ticket to the first concert. Nothing could have prepared him for the experience. A song in his earbuds held no comparison to the feel of the bass pounding along with his heart, the roar of the crowd around him, and Piers… beautiful, incredible Piers, with a voice that tore right through Raihan’s soul.He’d attended every concert since.KbNz Prequel to Best Laid Plans, but can also be read as a stand alone fic.
Relationships: Kibana | Raihan/Nezu | Piers
Series: Best Laid Plans of Meowth and Men [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1728991
Comments: 27
Kudos: 117





	1. Chapter 1

The bright lights of the stadium combined with the neon all around them to give the arena an eerie glow. People filed in through the chain-link gate, the noise of the crowd echoing within Spikemuth’s enclosed walls until it sounded like there were three times the number of people crowded into the stadium. 

Raihan was used to it by now, and he wasn’t even bothered by the stale, stagnant smell anymore, somewhere between petrichor and cigarette smoke. He pulled the black beanie lower over his head as he handed the girl at the gate his ticket, and she didn’t look twice at him as she scanned it and ushered him into the arena. Good. The last thing he wanted was to be noticed. No signature dragon hoodie or jersey today, just jeans, a dark, nondescript t-shirt, beanie, and sunglasses. As the crowd ushered forward, gathering around the neon glow of the stage, Raihan lingered near the back of the arena. He didn’t need to be close to get what he came for. 

The crowd continued to grow, the sound growing louder and louder, filling the arena and Raihan’s ears as he leaned against the chain-link fence. Finally, the stadium lights dimmed and the spotlights snapped on, illuminating the stage. A deafening roar rose from the crowd and they surged closer to the stage. Raihan’s head snapped up and finally slid his sunglasses off to better see.

Smoke machines hissed and a lone bass guitar strummed, the chord lingering in the air as the clinking sound of metal-covered boots announced Piers’ arrival onstage. As he approached the mic, a dull beat matched his footfalls from the drummer, and even when he stopped at center stage, his foot continued tapping with the beat. He stood amidst the smoke and lights, moving minimally to match the rhythm pulsing through the speakers for a few moments. The crowd was going absolutely wild, the mass of people straining against the barrier between them and the stage.

Dark eyeshadow covered his closed eyelids, accentuated by just the right amount of eyeliner, and his face was pale as the moon in the stage lighting. His hair was as tamed as it could be for now, a section hanging free in front of his face and the rest up in a ponytail that went to about his mid-back. It would most certainly be set free before the end of the show, but for now his hair bobbed along with him in time with the beat. He wore a calm expression, almost as though he were the only one in the arena, heedless of the now absolutely riotous crowd chanting his name.

Raihan didn’t join in with the chanting, but he couldn’t help leaning forward and taking a few steps closer to the crowd, as if drawn like a magnet against his will closer to the stage. The bass beat vibrated through the crowd and pulsed within him.

After a pleasantly tense eternity of waiting, Piers finally reached up and took hold of the microphone. He leaned in towards it, speaking serenely to the turbulent swarm of supporters.

“Hey Spikemuth,” he toned, finally opening his pale green eyes to look out at them, “how’re ya doin’ tonight.”

The response was a rather fierce burst of noises as everyone in the crowd cried back. A small smirk found Piers’ lips, and he leaned in closer to the mic, and his voice grew louder.

“I _said…_ how’re ya doin’ tonight?!” he insisted, tightening his hold on the mic as his gaze grew more intent, somehow looking at each person individually and everyone all at once.

An absolutely savage symphony of sounds erupted from the mob in front of him, and Raihan found himself screaming his response with the rest of them. Piers let out a chuckle, booted foot still tapping.

“S’what I thought,” he said as he removed the mic from its stand, “now I jus’ have one more question, Spikemuth.” He grabbed the mic stand with his free hand, holding it at an angle as he leaned toward the crowd and suddenly bellowed into the mic. 

“Are you ready to rock?!”

This time, the roar of the crowd was accompanied by electric guitars and percussion as the band started up, speakers blasting at full volume right out at the unprotected ears of the crowd. In a smooth motion, Piers put the mic back on its stand and started singing.

From the moment the first note left Piers’ throat, Raihan was enchanted. He watched Piers with wide eyes and hung off every word, just as Raihan had done at the last four concerts. He couldn’t believe it had taken him this long to discover Piers’ music. He’d known Piers had a band, sure. Everyone knew that. But Raihan’s attention was primarily taken up by Pokemon Battling, and he mostly knew Piers as that weird, anti-social Gym Leader who refused to dynamax and never came to the League parties. It was only a few months ago that he’d happened to hear one of Piers’ singles on the radio, and he’d been caught hook, line, and sinker.

The music was catchy, the band talented, but it was the lyrics and Piers’ enthralling voice that held him captive. It made him _feel._ Piers put so much emotion into his music, rage, joy, sorrow, defiance, longing, regret, triumph, desire… After an incident where an unexpectedly heart-wrenching song in his workout playlist sent Raihan into tears at the gym, he’d needed to carefully sort the songs into playlists. He didn’t fancy a repeat of the incident, and it had been difficult enough to explain to Aria why he was crying over the bench press rack.

When Piers announced he was doing another concert series, Raihan knew he had to see Piers perform live, and clandestinely bought a ticket to the first concert. Nothing could have prepared him for the experience. A song in his earbuds held no comparison to the feel of the bass pounding along with his heart, the roar of the crowd around him, and Piers… beautiful, incredible Piers, with a voice that tore right through Raihan's soul.

He’d attended every concert since.

Piers’ concerts were always an experience, since not every song was a rowdy ordeal, though his sets were laid out in perfect sequence to take the attendees on a journey along with him. Typically he started loud, working the crowd to a frenzy before gradually easing them into slower, more soulful songs that led to an intermission. The second act was always better than the first, starting slower, but crescendoing into an absolutely bombastic finale that sent the crowd into crazed ravings for an encore.

But an encore never came. Piers didn’t do encores.

Currently, Piers was beginning to wind down, leading toward the intermission. He breathed out a sigh into the mic, closing his eyes in a blissful, tranquil expression.

 _“Maybe my songs don’t make anyone happy,”_ he crooned, ache resonating from every clear note, _“maybe I can’t help.”_

Raihan’s heart clenched. Were these just lyrics? Or was it possible Piers really felt this way? Raihan yearned to comfort him, to reassure him that his music was meaningful, it really did bring him joy. Arceus, nothing made him feel the way Piers’ music did.

 _“But still,”_ Piers continued, a bit of pain crossing into his expression, _“the only thing I can do is sing.”_ He took a deep breath, then finished the number, drawing out each note with just a bit of vibrato to accent them.

_“Sing my humble song.”_

As the last of his final note echoed away, Piers let the silence linger, holding the audience captive as he stayed perfectly still. Finally he let out a breath, and the rest of the arena did right after.

“Thanks so much,” he murmured into the mic as applause and cheers broke out, and he affixed the mic back in place, “gonna be takin’ a breather for a bit, but y’folks sit tight. Be right back.” 

He gave the crowd a nod, pausing to grab the leather jacket he’d ripped off during one of the earlier songs before he slipped offstage.

Raihan sighed and sank backward, leaning against the chain-link fence. The energy in the stadium left with Piers, and Raihan both felt like he could breathe again and like a hole had been left in his heart. He pulled his phone out and snapped a quick selfie, giving the camera a smirk. He rotated between a few filters until he found one he liked, then saved the image and stuffed the phone back in his pocket.

The crowd had loosened from its tight mosh pit, fans milling about, chatting, and investigating the merch booth while they waited. Raihan hastily slipped his sunglasses back on and kept out of the way. He didn’t really think he’d be recognized, but it wasn’t worth taking the risk. He had a sizeable fanbase, and while most of them were great people, some of them were an ungodly combination of rabid sports fans and obsessive social media followers. The last thing he wanted was to cause a scene, especially here. This wasn’t like making an appearance after a Pokemon Battle, or even like getting ambushed while walking down the street in Hammerlocke. This was Spikemuth, at an event that had nothing to do with Raihan, in the very stadium of another respected Gym Leader. He didn’t want to cause a scene and steal the limelight.

He couldn’t resist snapping another selfie, peering slyly over his sunglasses, making sure to get the stage in the background of this one. He pocketed his phone again and relaxed, waiting for the intermission to end.

The lights flickered twice, signaling that the intermission was nearing an end, and the crowd started returning to their tight position up against the barrier. It wasn’t long before the house lights dimmed again, and Piers took the stage once more.

This time, there was no greeting or fanfare, and he immediately started singing. His makeup, which had begun to run from sweat pre-intermission, was newly refreshed, and Piers looked just as perfect as he had at the beginning of the show. Piers started with a rough song, and started working into even more heavy and angry songs, intermixed with a couple sensual ones. They were rarely, if ever, explicit, but heavily suggestive and sensual.

Piers had total control of the stage and his audience, and Raihan leaned in with the rest of the crowd as Piers crooned through a sensual chorus with heavy-lidded eyes. It was amazing that this was the same man who slumped around League meetings and didn’t make conversation with the other leaders, now smirking behind a microphone, fully aware that he was the sole object of desire for a crowd of hundreds. Raihan was no exception.

 _“Your fingers feel like lightning, dancing across my skin,”_ Piers murmured into the mic, shifting his shoulders minutely as he tightly gripped the mic, _“and the look in your eyes makes me feel like finally givin’ in.”_

Tiny details held Raihan captive. A shift of his thin hips, a hand sliding down the mic stand, a lock of hair falling into his eyes, all of it put Raihan at the mercy of Piers and his incredible voice. Since when was he into twinks? He’d never paid Piers attention before this. But now… now, he’d do _anything_ that voice asked him to.

 _“I can’t stand it, givin’ up control, but baby, I know that’s your only goal,”_ Piers’ foot tapped faster as the song sped up and grew more intense, moaning out the next lyrics. _“My heart is racin’, I can feel you’re on a roll, so give me your ev’rything, baby, ‘cause only that’ll make me whole!”_

A hot breath left Raihan’s lips and he swayed forward, unable to take his eyes off Piers. The next, sensual line was suddenly drowned out by the sound of a commotion at the back of the venue, sharp, raised voices that clashed with the usual screams of the crowd. Piers didn’t stop singing, though as the ruckus continued, more and more people turned to see what was causing the disruption.

Raihan turned to look at the commotion with a frown, wondering who the hell was disrupting the concert, and his blood ran cold. A group of people dressed in the Hammerlocke Gym’s uniforms (the version available for the public to purchase) were pushing their way into the main area of the concert, yelling and waving posters and banners.

Oh no. Oh _no._ Those were his gym colors. But… how? What were they doing here? How did they find him? Raihan could only stand and stare numbly at the blue and orange swarm that invaded the arena.

It didn’t take long for what they were yelling to make itself heard over the music.

“Raihaaaan!! Raihan is the best!”

“Omg Raihan, marry meeee!!”

“Dragon type forever, hell yeah!!”

Several people in the crowd tried to shush them or calm them down, though the group in orange and blue kept pushing further into the crowd, still yelling things and causing a giant scene. Piers’ eyes followed the group, though he hadn’t missed a beat, still singing and pouring all his passion into it.

“Where’s Raihan, he’s here somewhere!”

“We’re here to represent!! Hammerlocke rocks!!”

“Dynamax rules, ya Spikemuth twats!”

That was all it took for things to get so much worse. In an instant, Spikemuth citizens turned on the much smaller group of enthusiasts and started throwing insults, names, and punches.

When fists started flying, Raihan knew he had to do something. He ripped off his beanie and sunglasses and climbed on top of a garbage can on the edge of the stadium. 

_“HEY!!!”_ He bellowed at the top of his lungs. It didn’t have the intended effect, unable to compete with the roar of the crowd.

Piers kicked his mic stand into a twirl and caught it, pointing out at the portion of the crowd that was caught up in the fray and yelled into the mic.

“The Dragon of Hammerlocke appears! Ready t’fight, as usual. But y’gotta take th’figh’n outside, this ain’t a Pokemon match!”

As the music stopped and Piers acknowledged the commotion, more and more people turned to see what was going on. A hundred eyes found Raihan, and he wanted to drop into the trash can and vanish, never to be seen again. 

“H… Hey, Hammerlocke!” Raihan roared, once again trying to get the attention of those fighting. “How about we do as he says and take this outside?”

As both Leaders acknowledged the commotion, things quelled a bit. At least enough for the Hammerlocke enthusiasts to spot Raihan up above the crowd.

“There he is!! Raihan!!”

One girl in particular who had ducked out of the fight rushed toward him with a squeal.

“Raihaaaaaaan!!”

And it wasn’t long before the others abandoned their fights to join in.

Raihan hopped off the can and bolted for the exit, luring the wave of blue and orange after him. He shot one last glance at Piers over his shoulder as he ran. Some of the crowd booed and jeered as the Hammerlocke fans left, and though Piers’ gaze followed them, his expression was sharp and unreadable.

Raihan sprinted through the tight, grungy streets of Spikemuth, leading the swarm right to the city gates. Screams and cheers followed him the entire way, his adoring fans right on his heels. He hurled Flygon’s ultra ball out ahead of him and leapt on his back just in time to evade the grasping hands of the forerunners and tore into the fresh air outside Spikemuth’s walls. He looked back to be sure his fans were following him out of the city, then pulled Flygon into a hover, turning to face them.

“Hey guys, this was fun, but how about we head back to Hammerlocke?”

There were some noises of disappointment, but just as many cheers. The group yelled their praises and adoration up at him for a bit longer before they started breaking off and heading back in the direction of Hammerlocke.

“Be sure to tune into your local station Saturday at five for my charity battle with Gordie! See you all then!” 

He said the promo automatically, needing to give the crowd something, then tapped Flygon’s shoulder and they soared into the air, headed back to Hammerlocke. He sagged over Flygon’s back and groaned, burying his face into the pokemon’s neck. How did this happen? He’d been so careful. How did his fans find him? 

Flygon came to a landing outside his home and he gave the dragon a grateful pat before returning him and slumping inside. He kicked his shoes off and dropped onto his couch, pulling out his phone. He unlocked the screen and froze.

The last selfie he took, smirking over his sunglasses, sat innocently back at him, with the cheerful notification that it had been successfully posted to all his social media accounts. 

No. Oh no. He must have hit “Share” instead of “Save.” Why the hell wasn’t there a confirmation notice before the app posted it everywhere? And why were the buttons so close together? Raihan groaned and started going through his accounts, deleting the selfie from all of them, but he knew it was too late. There would be screencaps and retweets and shares, and there was no getting rid of it anymore. _Dammit._

That picture was supposed to be just for him, a memory of a wonderful concert he could treasure. Instead, he’d disrupted the entire affair, started a _fight,_ and ruined everything. Well, he sure as hell couldn’t go to any of the other concerts now. His fans would probably be already planning for how to scout for him and waiting at the next one. 

And _Piers._

Raihan put his hands over his face and flopped over onto his couch, laying back and kicking his legs over the armrest. Hell. He needed to apologize to Piers. The entire situation was unforgivably rude. Piers didn’t come barging into his off-season battles and break out a concert. It was just as audacious as kicking in the door of Bea’s dojo or bursting into one of Nessa’s modeling shoots. 

Raihan started scrolling through his phone and grimaced. The fighting had already started; Piers’s fans calling him out for causing a disturbance, his own fans fighting back and defending him, arguing and lashing out through text, safe behind the anonymity of the internet.

He needed to get ahold of Piers. 

Did he have his number? Raihan started scrolling through his contacts. Nope. They’d never actually exchanged numbers. Hell, they didn’t talk much. Just some awkward conversation in the locker room and shit talking over the pitch during a battle. Maybe a few interviews together. 

After some digging, he managed to find his email in one of the group emails Chairman Rose sent all the Gym Leaders. That was something, at least. And he’d be able to type up a formal, thought out apology. 

He sighed. Maybe he needed to look into getting a Rotom, too. A Rotom could have saved him from ruining everything with one mispress of a button. The last few hadn’t worked out, but maybe if he sprang for a high-end well-trained Rotom… well, that was something else he could look into tonight.

Raihan pocketed his phone and went upstairs to grab his laptop. Time to get to work.


	2. Chapter 2

The email was professional, thorough, and contrite, explaining the situation and apologizing profusely for disrupting the concert. Raihan ended the email with a brief confession of admiration for Piers’ work and an offer to make it up to him. It took Raihan two hours to write, and he still wasn’t entirely satisfied with it when he finally sent it off.

Piers never replied.

A week passed. Raihan checked, double checked, and triple checked, but the email address was correct, and he’s sent it to the right place. Piers just had nothing to say to him.

Disappointment hung over Raihan like a cloud, but he finally made his way into a store to see if he could get a new Rotom to prevent a disaster like this from happening again.

A chipper girl in a cute outfit that was made with Rotom colors greeted him, her bouncing pigtails tied with electric blue ribbons.

“Good afternoon, sir! How might we be of service today?”

“Looking for a new Rotom for my phone,” Raihan said, pulling the smartphone out and waving it. 

“Of course, sir! We have many Rotoms available. Many standard-trained Rotoms are complimentary with certain phones and providers, but we also have more highly-trained Rotoms for specific lifestyles and needs.” She gave him a warm smile, her eyes showing she knew full well who he was, but was maintaining her professionalism. “What sort of Rotom might you be in the market for, sir?”

“I’ve had standard Rotoms in the past, but… they haven’t worked out. Really nice, all of them, great pokemon, but I have nine active social media profiles I manage, along with League business and a lot of very confidential information. I’d like a Rotom that can manage all my accounts and—” He hesitated before saying it, but there was no other way to word it. “And actually has a lick of common sense.” 

She nodded to him, her smile never wavering. “Of course. You’ll probably want one of the highly-trained Rotoms, and one with some experience to speak of. This way, please.”

The clerk led him further back into the store, past several people meeting their standard Rotoms for the first time, back into a whole other section of the store. This room was more pristine, and each Rotom was waiting in a high-end phone for inspection with a screen behind them listing off their experience and training.

“Each of these Rotom have been very well trained in various duties that one might need to accomplish with their phone, and all will maintain a high level of professionalism for and to their trainer.” She paused in front of a particular isle of phones, gesturing down the aisle. “I believe these Rotom might have the sorts of qualifications you’re looking for, would you care to peruse them? I can certainly help with any questions you might have, as well.”

Raihan looked down the row of Rotom with a critical eye, finally lingering on one that had a listed expertise in photography and prior experience managing business web pages. 

“Hey there,” Raihan said, hands slipping comfortably into his pockets. “You have experience with social media, little guy?”

The phone popped off of its charger upon being addressed, giving a short bowing motion to Raihan.

“Yes zzzsir! I managed the zzsocial media accounts for a staff member of the Junior Pokemon League, as well as for a business that handled issuing poke-jobszz and pokemon responsible enough to watch over children!” It barely took a breath before continuing— perhaps it didn’t need to. “I also worked as staff on the Boltund Broadcast channel as their main photographer for the League matches!”

Raihan grinned. “League matches, huh? Do you recognize me, then?”

“Of course, zzsir! Your matches were always very exczziting to shoot!” Its face on the screen flickered a little. “Would you like to see some examples of my photos from your past matcheszzt?”

Raihan gave it a surprised look. “Yeah, let’s see them.”

The Rotom zipped up to eye level with him and showed an internet browser, navigating quickly to the Boltund Broadcast’s webpage, then to the archive, and pulling up the photos saved from one of Raihan’s most recent League matches. It moved a bit closer to him as the photos loaded.

“Feel free to look through them, szzir!”

Raihan reached up and took the Rotom phone in hand, swiping through the pictures. There were a handful of victory poses, but most of them were dramatic action shots, the Rotom having managed to get fantastic photos even even through rain, bright sunlight, and sandstorm effects.

“And you took all these?” Raihan asked, eyes flicking from the screen to the Rotom’s eyes, then back down again. “These are pretty good. I’m impressed.”

“Thanks very much, zzsir!” the Rotom said, unable to keep from vibrating just a little in his hand at the praise. “If you have critique, I would be grateful to hear it!”

“Hm…” Raihan lingered over a few less-than-flattering pictures. “You do a lot of upward shots, which is a great dramatic angle, but it also shows up my nose and makes my chin look fat. I need to make sure the pictures of me look good, but we can discuss all that later. How would you feel about battle shots, while in the middle of the action instead of on the sidelines?” 

“I’d be happy to do those, szzir! I have not been trained for battle, so I will need some instruction, but that is more than within the services I can provide!”

“Good,” He quizzed the Rotom on a few more details, and was satisfied with the answers, even pleased that the Rotom was willing to admit when it didn’t know something or didn’t have experience. 

“What do you say?” Raihan finally grinned. “Would you like to partner up with me?”

A few sparks of static escaped the phone briefly, and its voice got the slightest bit higher pitched.

“I would like that very much, Mizzster Raihan! It would be an honor!”

Raihan grinned. “Alright. Let’s go make it official.”

He headed for the saleswoman, Rotom bobbing excitedly over his shoulder, and held up his current phone. “I think I’ve got a winner here.”

The clerk clapped her hands together once, looking delighted. “I’m so glad to hear you’ve found a Rotom you like! Now, if you’ll give me your phone, we’ll get you all set up. Rotom, if you’d please leave that phone so we can get you optimized for this one.”

Rotom only hesitated a moment before slipping out of the display phone it was in, shifting about uncomfortably while it was outside of the phone. It wasn’t long before Raihan’s phone had been set up, however, and the Rotom eagerly zipped into it the moment the saleswoman said it could. She proudly held out the phone toward Raihan.

“There’s an automatic billing app now installed for the Rotom’s services, and the first payment will go through tomorrow morning. If you find you need to return the Rotom before then, there will be no charge.”

Raihan thanked her, took his newly-occupied phone, and slipped out the door. 

“Alright, Rotom,” he said, walking down the street. “We’ve got a lot to go over, but let’s try some basics first. Why don’t you check the news and find some headlines relevant to me?”

“Yes zzsir!” The screen flashed by websites quickly, almost too quickly for Raihan to catch, but moments later, the Rotom was reporting on its findings. “There’szzt one article discussing your off-season trainings, two regarding the charity match you had with Gordie, and twelve about a dizzturbance in Spikemuth last week.”

Raihan grimaced. _“Twelve?_ Seriously, twelve stories about that concert? And only two for the charity match?”

A bit of static escaped the phone again before the Rotom shook off its nerves. “I’m afraid so, zzsir. Most do appear to be from less, ah, reputable sources. But there are certainly a lot more of them.”

Raihan groaned and ran a hand over his face.

“Great. What a mess. Dammit. Was it just a spurt from the day of the concert, or are people still talking about it?”

It was only seconds before the Rotom had an answer, the screen once again flicking quickly through web pages.

“It seems most of the articles were published within a day of the incident, though two were posted just yesterday. These were both on fan sites, and the continuing discussion seems to be limited to those spaces. Only one major news outlet covered the incident, most of the others were tabloid outlets. However, all twelve articles do show up when your name is searched.”

“Well, that’s just _great,”_ he grumbled, but shot the Rotom a sideways look. “…Good job, though. That would have taken me hours to find out.”

“Th-thank you, szzir! It was no trouble at all.” A beat passed before it spoke again. “...but there doeszz seem to be trouble for you, sir. Have you considered putting out a statement about the inzzcident?”

“And say what? I accidentally posted a selfie and a bunch of fanatics showed up? I don’t want to throw my fans under the bus, even if it is true.”

“Hm,” the Rotom mused as it performed another search, “well, Leader Piers has also not commented on the incident, so perhapszzt he is also waiting for things to quiet down.”

“Yeah?” Raihan asked. “Piers hasn’t said anything? Hm… I doubt he would during his next concert, either… I don’t think he’d want _two_ performances interrupted.”

“Well, it doesn’t seem as though he’ll be commenting on it then because his next concert has been cancelled, per an announcement made earlier today.”

Raihan’s head snapped to the Rotom, reaching to take the phone in his hands and look at the screen. _“What?”_

Rotom didn’t startle this time, easily letting Raihan take hold of the phone and navigating to the page with Piers’ official announcement.

On the “spikemuthofficial” twitter page, there was a short note that read: “So sorry to do this to everyone, but I’m going to have to cancel the show scheduled for this coming Friday night. Your tickets can be redeemed for a later show, contact my staff for details. Gotta take care of my pipes while I’m sick. Thanks for your understanding. - Piers”.

“He _cancelled?”_ Raihan gaped at the screen. “Says he’s sick? Oh hell. This is me, isn’t it? I didn’t make a statement, and so he didn’t make a statement, and now he thinks I’m gonna do it again at his next show, so he’s canning it! Oh, son of a _bitch!”_

The phone vibrated a little in his hands.

“N-now calm down zzsir, we don’t know that’s true! Have you reached out to Leader Piers to talk to him about the incident?”

“All I have is his email. I spent hours working on an email explaining the situation, but he totally ignored it. I just wish I could meet him face to face and explain…”

“From what I have seen of Leader Piers’ online presence and battles, he seems like a reasonable person. Meeting him in private to discuss this matter seems like it would help both sides come to better understand what happened.”

“One problem, I have no idea how to make that meeting happen. All I have is his email, no phone number, no address, not even a personal email, just his League one.” Raihan kicked a pebble in the street, sending it bouncing down the road.

The Rotom was silent for a bit, floating along beside him, then finally its expression shifted into a side-eye.

“...surely, szzir… someone else in the League knows those things… and could potentially give you that information. For szztrictly business purposes, of course.”

He gave the Rotom a quick glance. 

“Well, Chairman Rose would know for sure,” he grimaced. “But that would mean talking to Rose, and he’d want to know why I needed it.”

He thought for a moment, and his steps slowed.

“Leon might know.”

“Champion Leon?” Rotom questioned, “I admit, I do not know much of what he does in the off-season, but based on how closely he works with the League and Chairman Rose, I would imagine that he is in contact with all the Leaders to keep a close eye on the goings-on of the Pokemon League.”

“That makes sense. Alright, let me shoot him a text.”

He took the phone in hand again and started typing.

[Hey, Leon. Do you have any contact information for Piers? Need to talk to him.]

“With luck, that’s all the explanation he’ll need.”

Rotom resumed floating alongside Raihan as they meandered through the Hammerlocke streets. It was silent for another short while before speaking again.

“You seem to text Champion Leon more frequently than many of your other contacts. Are there some contacts you’d like special alerts for when they message you?”

Raihan fell silent for a moment and considered.

“Yeah,” he finally said, his voice a little too casual. “Just give an alert for Leon’s texts for now.”

“Will do, szzir.” It wasn’t long before said alert sounded. “Ah! He responded.” Rotom flew over to hover in front of Raihan, displaying the text without further prompting.

[Hi Raihan! I’ve got his number, email, and address. What’s up? Something wrong?]

[Not really. I just need to go over some stuff with him.] Raihan hastily texted back.

[I heard he was sick. Some well-wishes wouldn’t go amiss if you also need to hash out some League stuff?]

Raihan paused. If Leon knew, then maybe he really was sick?

[Yeah, will do. Thanks!]

[Okay, here you go. Weird that you didn’t have this before, honestly. What with you and Piers being city neighbors and all. Give him my get well wishes too!]

Included at the bottom of the last text was Piers’ phone number, address, and email.

Raihan shot back a text of thanks, then stared at the phone.

“So… Clearly, I should call him. Not just show up at his place. That would be weird, right?”

“That _would_ be rude by most standards, yes szzir.”

“Yeah. Of course. Super rude.”

He stared at the number for a long while before finally pressing it, even though he had no idea what he was going to say.

The phone rang and rang, and finally rang out, going to voicemail. Piers’ chill voice came through the speaker.

“This is Piers, leave me a yell to show your support and I’ll yell back when I can.” A loud beep announced that Raihan should begin his message.

“Oh, uh… Hey, Piers. I just wanted to check in. Maybe talk about what happened? I sent you an email, but… Oh, and this is Raihan, by the way. If you didn’t know. I didn’t have your number, so you probably don’t have mine, and…” He was cut off by another beep, signalling that he’d run out of time to leave a message. 

“Arceus, that was horrible. He’s _definitely_ avoiding me. I’ve got to talk to him.”

“Well, you’ve exhausted two of his contacts… does that leave us with only stalking his house, zzsir?” Rotom sounded chipper as ever, possibly moreso at the prospect of a possible adventure.

“Aw, don’t call it stalking,” Raihan cringed. “I mean, you’re not wrong, but… C’mon. We’re gonna go buy a fruit basket or something.”

* * *

A few hours later and Raihan was once again in Spikemuth with, indeed, a fruit basket under one arm as he wove through the narrow, cramped streets, following the directions to Raihan’s flat.

“Okay, and we’re going to turn left up here, then go on past the arena to the street beyond it, and then it’s on the left, number 61.” Rotom directed him through the dimly lit alleyways, its screen brighter than most of the light sources in the city.

“Number 61, got it,” Raihan said. He took a few sharp turns, then finally stood in front of the apartment. “Thanks, bud. Wish me luck.”

“Good luck, szzir!” It gave him as best a salute as it could manage before it hopped into the pocket of his jacket and shut off.

Raihan took a deep breath and rang the bell. A few moments passed, and nothing happened. He fidgeted, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, and held the basket tighter. He waited a minute more, then tried the doorbell again.

Finally there came the sounds of movement from inside, and the door opened. There stood Piers, wearing a mask on his lower face, and looking all together quite dreadful. His hair was more unruly than usual, loose and wild, his skin was white as paper, and he wore only a shabby tank top and shorts. He squinted at Raihan, and his normally clear voice came out harsh and raspy.

“Raihan? Th’ hell’re you doin’ here?”

Oh, shit. He really _was_ sick.

“I, uh… brought you a fruit basket.” Raihan said lamely. He held the basket out.

“A… what?” Piers paused a moment to cough in the other direction, coughing into his elbow despite the mask, then let out a sigh. “Look, that’s real nice’n all but…” He trailed off as he wobbled on his feet, a bought of dizziness hitting him.

“Hell,” he muttered, leaning on the door. “S’that all y’came fer? T’give me a basket f’some reason?”

“I wanted to apologize for… for last week.”

Piers was _definitely_ sick. Why did Raihan think he was lying? Cancelling a whole concert because a bunch of fans caused a momentary disruption? Of course that sounded stupid. How did Raihan get so wrapped up in his own ego?

“O-oh, tha--” Piers cleared his throat, suppressing another cough, then finally stepped back. “If yer gonna insist on talkin’ more, at least lemme sit down an’ get you off th’street. Pretty sure m’not contagious anymore, just look’n sound like shit.”

Raihan awkwardly stepped passed him, and looked around the small flat.

The place was definitely pretty helter-skelter, though it was unclear how much of that was because of Piers’ sickness, or the flat was normally a mess. It wasn’t dirty, however, just untidy, and the appliances and decor felt about as old and outdated in the flat as the rest of Spikemuth. Piers led him over to a well-worn couch in the living room and sat down on one side of it, having another coughing fit before calming down.

“Shit,” he muttered, then looked at Raihan. “How’d you know where ta come? Pretty sure my address isn’t public… an’ this is the first time we’ve talked off a pitch in two years.”

Raihan awkwardly set the fruit basket down on the coffee table and took a seat on the couch. 

“Leon gave it to me. I did try calling and sending an email first…” 

“Leon?” Piers questioned, glancing at the door as if waiting to see him appear there as well. “Gonna hafta lecture that kid on privacy…” He let out a sigh, looking over at the fruit basket. “What number’d you call? Didn’ get a call from anyone recently… An’ I never check my League email.”

“You don’t check… well, that explains that,” he sighed, thinking of the hours he’d spent on the damn email. “And this is the number I called.”

He pulled his phone out of his jacket, pulling the number up and showing him.

Piers squinted at his phone, then nodded as he sat back. “Oh, yeah, that’s my press number. Haven’ been checkin’ that while I’ve been sick. Get a lotta fan calls and shit on that number.” He chuckled, though it turned into another coughing fit. “Forgot I gave that one t’Rose. Thought Leon had my personal number, though.”

“Yeah, well. He may have gotten them mixed up. And, uh, maybe go ahead and disregard the voicemail on that one, yeah?” He laughed nervously.

Piers raised an eyebrow at him. “Right… well… you said somethin’ ‘bout apologizin’?” He looked at the fruit basket. “S’that what the fruit basket’s all about?”

“Yeah,” Raihan looked down at his hands. “Piers… I am so sorry about last week. I had no idea that— I didn’t plan on—”

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I didn’t ask for those people to crash your concert. I was just there, enjoying the concert incognito, and took a selfie. I meant to just save it to my phone, but I accidently shared it online instead. And my followers took it as a challenge to come find me. I’m sorry. The last thing I wanted was to disrupt your performance.”

Piers blinked at him in surprise, then considered his words quietly for a moment.

“I… I’ll admit, I did think at first that y’did it on purpose. But I know how intense some fans c’n be.” He glanced sideways at Raihan. “And I got good ears— I could hear ya tryin’ to calm ‘em down.”

“Some good that did,” Raihan grumbled. “At least when they finally spotted me, they followed me all the way out of Spikemuth.”

He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, sliding his bandana off and dropping it in his lap.

“So, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset the show. It won’t happen again,” His shoulders sagged, resigned to the fact that he wouldn’t be going to any more concerts.

Piers looked him up and down, studying Raihan with a curious expression.

“If you weren’t there ta troll, then why _were_ y’there?”

Raihan looked over at him in surprise.

“To listen to the concert? I… uh…” He rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. “I… really like your music. I’ve come to the last four shows. Er… five, including last week’s.” 

Piers’ expression morphed into one of utter bewilderment.

“Wh--really? You… er….” He looked away and rubbed his neck, mirroring Raihan’s similar motion earlier. “Guess I figured my music wasn’t really yer scene. Seem more like th’ kinda guy who’s only got upbeat workout music, y’know?”

“Well, I mean, I _do,_ but that doesn’t mean I don’t like other stuff,” Raihan said, fiddling with the bandana in his lap. “I only got into your music… six months ago? Something like that. Just happened to hear it on the radio and it just _caught_ me. And then I started listening to your other stuff and I couldn’t stop. You put so much emotion into your work, it makes me _feel.”_

He sighed and flopped back against the couch. 

“It sounds stupid now, saying it out loud.”

Piers looked even more blindsided, and he was silent for a while longer before speaking softly.

“… it… it’s good t’hear that you enjoy my music so much. I guess I jus’ really didn’t expect it from you.” He glanced sideways at Raihan. “Though it sounds like we both’ve had our views of each other shifted recently.”

Raihan laughed softly. “Guess that’s what happens when we actually talk to each other.”

“Hm,” Piers mused, “or when someone stalks me to m’flat.”

“Look,” Raihan said, but there was good humor in his voice. “I was desperate. You weren’t returning my calls and emails and I panicked.”

“Apparently,” Piers said, gesturing to the fruit basket and relaxing a bit more into the couch. “Still a bit cross with Leon for givin’ up my address so easily. Try t’keep my personal life pretty quiet, y’know? Y’obviously know all about rabid fans.”

“Ugh. That’s a truth,” Raihan said. He rose to his feet.

“And on that note, I should probably leave. You’re obviously not feeling well and I’m definitely intruding. Sorry.”

“Oh, well, if y’insist,” Piers said, making a motion like he wanted to play with a necklace, but he wasn’t wearing one today. “I’d hate t’make you sick too, you can’t miss out on yer next charity match with Kabu.”

Raihan perked up, surprised that Piers had been paying attention to his charity matches.

“Yeah! I’m excited for it! Kabu’s always puts up a good battle. So… see you around sometime?”

“Yeah,” Piers returned, his gaze different than it had been when Raihan had first arrived, “m’next concert’s in two weeks.”

Raihan grinned. “Really? So you don’t mind if I… Well. I’ll be sure to be more incognito this time.”

Piers raised an eyebrow at him.

“After that show ya put on last time? Y’better not be. The fans’re still at each others’ throats over this shitstorm.”

“Hell,” Raihan paused, considering. “What do you suggest? Public endorsement?”

“Hm,” Piers made a slight face, “not sure’m into that. Any public statement either of us makes is gonna get scrutinized t’hell. How ‘bout you just meet me backstage before th’ next one, we take one of yer damn selfies, an’ they can think what they want?”

“Hey, I like that!” He grinned. “What time should I be there?”

“Mic check’s about six, head ‘round back when you get there. I’ll tell ‘em to let y’in.”

“Will do. Feel better, Piers. See you then!”

He waved and slipped out the door, his heart much lighter than it had been going in. 

“Well, that went just about as well as it could have gone,” Raihan said out loud, hands in his pockets as he strode down the Spikemuth streets with a spring in his step.

Rotom popped out of his pocket, hovering near Raihan as they retread their steps through Spikemuth, a digital grin appearing on its screen.

“Mission accomplished, szzir?”

“Mission accomplished!” He grinned. “Looks like we’re spending the next two weeks practicing selfies, newbie.”

Rotom snapped at attention, giving him a curt nod with a sharp tilt of the phone.

“Szzir yes sir!”


	3. Chapter 3

Two weeks passed quickly, and Raihan was soon in Spikemuth once again, this time arriving long before the concert started. The arena was filled with stage hands, hustling about and setting everything up. Raihan grinned at the stage hand that waved him in and he strode towards the stage, Sebastian trailing behind him. 

Piers had sent him a handful of VIP tickets, inviting him to bring along anyone he wanted. When Raihan offered the tickets to his Gym staff, Sebastian revealed himself to be a casual fan of Piers’ work. He’d been quietly excited to go, and thanked Raihan profusely for the chance.

As they were waved backstage, they were met with a flurry of activity. Piers’ staff was bustling about here and there, making sure everything was set up correctly and working properly. There didn’t seem to be any official dressing rooms, though there was an area behind the stage where Piers was getting ready. He was currently leaning in close to a mirror, applying his own makeup with careful precision. 

Sebastian looked around the hubbub, sticking close to Raihan, professional as ever.

“Wow, I didn’t realize Piers had so much staff working for him,” he mused aloud quietly.

“Yeah, same,” Raihan said. He scrutinized a few of the faces moving past him. “And I think they’re the same staff as his Gym crew.”

Sebastian nodded as he stepped aside for one of them. “I’d say that’s accurate, boss.”

“It’s not unprecedented, I suppose,” Raihan said, heading toward Piers. “After all, you guys double as my Vault staff.”

“True,” he replied, “and you compensate us accordingly.”

Piers didn’t look up as they approached, his mouth hanging open slightly as he applied black eyeliner both above and below his eyes.

Raihan hung back a little, not wanting to surprise Piers into ruining his makeup, and settled for pulling out his phone and checking himself over. 

“How’re we looking, Rotom?”

Rotom circled around him and Sebastian, inspecting the both of them.

“Looking good, zzsir! Just need to fix your bandana a little— it got skewed in the flight over.”

“Ah, thanks,” Raihan used the camera as a mirror and fixed himself up. “I’ve been meaning to mention it, but I’m not sure how I feel about being called ‘sir.’ Let’s maybe find something else?”

“Okay szz—er…” the phone stammered, “what would you prefer I call you?”

Raihan shrugged. “When they’re not using my name, my staff call me Leader or boss,” he said, glancing at Sebastian.

“I will change the designation to ‘Boss’ from now on, if that’s okay Mr. Raihan!” the Rotom said, still sounding a little flustered.

Sebastian smiled at Raihan a little, then looked at the Rotom.

“Always an honor to be working with new staff members,” he said, which only ruffled the pokemon more.

“Th-the pleasure is all mine, Mr. Sebastian!” it said quickly before decidedly hurrying back into Raihan’s pocket.

Raihan grinned. “I think it’s still a bit shy. But it’s been doing a fantastic job so far.”

Sebastian chuckled a little. “Glad to hear it. I know you’ve had some trouble finding a good Rotom in the past.”

“Yeah. Been needing one that can keep up with me. The last few haven’t quite been able to handle it.”

“It _is_ a pretty big job,” Sebastian mused, “it makes sense that you’d need a fairly exceptional Rotom to take it on.”

“It’s been up to the task so far,” Raihan said. His eyes strayed back toward Piers, who was finished with his makeup. “We’ll see how things go.”

Piers carefully brushed his giant mane of hair, and soon began trying to tame it up into its usual ponytail. He waved off a roadie who was offering him some help, holding the hair tie between his lips.

Raihan gave Piers a furtive look, and finally headed over. 

“Hey, Piers! How’s it going?”

“Mm,” Piers returned eloquently before he tied up his hair, “Hey Raihan. Glad y’made it.”

“Wouldn’t miss it! Thanks for those extra tickets. This is Sebastian, one of my Gym Trainers.”

Sebastian bowed respectfully to Piers, who nodded in return.

“A pleasure to formally meet you, Leader Piers.”

“Yeah, same t’you,” Piers said. “It’s good t’meet one of Raihan’s trainers, I heard he works you lot real hard.”

Sebastian stood up a bit straighter. “We all do our very best to maintain the Hammerlocke gym’s reputation, which does sometimes require rigorous training. But it’s quite invigorating!”

“Well, that’s good t’hear,” Piers said with a smile just barely gracing his features. He stood up, fixing his hair a bit more before slipping on his leather jacket and gloves. “M’gonna need a favor, Sebastian.”

The trainer blinked, glancing at Raihan before looking back at Piers. “O-of course, Piers. What do you need?”

“Well, see, I’m real shit at takin’ selfies. So m’gonna need t’ask you to take the one for my phone.” He held out a rather battered, older phone toward Sebastian.

“Oh, of course! I can do that no problem.” He stepped forward and took the phone from Piers, only fumbling a little as he worked with the outdated technology.

“Alright, let’s do this!” Raihan threw an arm around Piers’ shoulders and smirked up at his Rotom phone, striking a pose. Piers didn’t balk away from Raihan’s touch, and struck a pose that he frequently used in promo shots for his concerts, sticking out his tongue. Rotom took to the job with enthusiasm, flying around them and snapping multiple photos in quick succession before backing off so they could turn their attention to Piers’ camera.

“Let me just…” Sebastian grabbed a chair and stood on it, getting roughly the same angle that the Rotom had managed so effortlessly. “Okay, 1, 2, 3!” There was an audible shutter noise as Piers’ older phone snapped a picture.

“We good?” Raihan asked and clapped Piers on the shoulder. 

Piers stumbled a bit, but didn’t topple, and fixed his jacket a little once Raihan had pulled away. He took his phone back from Sebastian, thanking him quietly. Rotom zoomed up to Raihan to show him the multiple selfies he’d gotten of the pair.

“How do they look, boss?”

Raihan examined them carefully until he settled on one he liked. 

“What do you think, Piers? Am I good to post this one?” He showed him the screen, the photo already touched up and filters placed by the Rotom.

“Huh?” Piers said, looking up at Raihan’s phone, and he shrugged. “Looks fine t’me. Jus’ gonna stick this one on m’twitter and call it good.”

“Perfect. Alright, post it!”

Raihan had previously worked out the message he wanted to include with it, a casual remark about meeting up with Gym Leader Piers before his next amazing concert, with hashtags for Spikemuth, Hammerlock, and DarkDragon. 

Piers spent far less time prepping his picture, posting it without tags or commentary before tossing his phone onto his vanity’s counter.

“Since you guys’re VIP, you can either watch from th’ wings or from a spot near th’ front. People’ll definitely still see ya if you’re up front, though, if yer worried about fans bustin’ in like last time.”

“Yeah, I might just hang out in the wings. Hopefully that post will be enough to chill out any fans from coming to start a fight, and if anyone does show up, they actually enjoy the concert.” 

Raihan pocketed his phone and side-stepped out of a roadie’s way.

“Mmhm,” Piers toned, checking his face in the mirror again. “Hope y’enjoy it, at least.”

“Of course,” Raihan grinned and headed for the spot offstage where he’d watch the show. “Break a leg!”

A small smile found Piers’ lips again, and he watched Raihan retreat in the mirror. “Thanks.”

Sebastian followed along with Raihan, letting out a small sigh once they were out of the way.

“Well, it’s good to know there’s no bad blood between us and Spikemuth after all that… and hopefully those posts help show the goodwill, as well.”

“That’s the plan,” Raihan said, settling into a metal folding chair sitting off stage. “I was afraid I’d have to stop coming to the shows.”

Sebastian sat down primly in a chair beside him, his eyebrows raised. “You’ve been to more shows before the last one, boss?”

“Ah… yeah. I’ve hit up the last four. Five. Wait,” He made a face, counting back. “Yeah, five. So this is concert number six.”

“O-oh,” Sebastian looked quite surprised, “I didn’t even know you were a fan of Piers’ music until… well, until all this happened.”

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t until a few months ago. And then it… I dunno. Started with one song, then the rest just sucked me in.”

Sebastian nodded, looking out at the stage. “That’s kind of how it happened with me, too. I’ve never really been that big into rock music, but… I heard one song on the radio that stuck out to me, and then all of the sudden I’d purchased his album…” He chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s hard to describe what’s so enchanting about his music without experiencing it.”

Raihan grinned. “Well, buckle up, because it’s even better live.”

A grin found Sebastian’s face as well. “Excellent!”

Several roadies started shushing each other, and the whole stage went silent. The crowd, however, did not, and went wild as the spotlights came on. Across the stage, Raihan and Sebastian could see Piers about to walk onstage. He tilted his head from side to side, rolled his shoulders a couple times, then took a few breaths. Finally, he sauntered out.

Once again, the moment he stepped onstage, he was captivating. Every motion, either miniscule or magnified was completely mesmerizing. The set for each show was different, switching up songs here and there, adding new ones and rotating out old ones, but the raw emotion was always just as profound.

Raihan had never been this close during a performance, and found himself caught on little details he’d never noticed before. His eyes lingered on the sway of Piers’ hips, the way his hair bobbed as he tapped his foot, and the fierce, fiery intensity in his eyes, a look he’s never seen on Piers, even when they’d battled.

The crowd screamed and roared and cried, though they were further away now, so it was much easier to hear and see every aspect of Piers’ performance. He grabbed and threw his mic stand around constantly, though he caressed it gently as he slipped into more sensual songs. A whole spectrum of emotion graced the stage, and only one man performed on it the entire show.

It wasn’t long before he was sighing into the mic again, eyes half-lidded and staring vaguely out over the crowd, looking at something only he could see. His fingers slid down along the pole of the mic stand as his hips swayed back and forth.

 _“Your fingers feel like lightning,”_ he sang once again, though his voice seemed so much more heavy and hot up close, _“dancing across my skin...”_

Raihan didn’t know when he’d left his seat, but he’d been standing for a solid portion of the concert, too riled up by the energy in the stadium. When Piers’ voice dropped into that all too familiar register, Raihan felt a pull in his chest, just like at the last concert, drawn toward Piers’ siren call. He had enough presence of mind to wrap his arm around one of the sturdy support pillars to prevent himself from doing something stupid and accidentally walking out on stage, but his eyes locked onto Piers and couldn’t pull away.

 _“And the look in your eyes…”_ Piers lingered on this refrain much longer than last time, and one of his hands slid down along his hips instead of the mic stand, _“makes me feel like finally givin’ in…”_

A hot breath left Raihan’s throat, his eyes following the hand downward, and unconsciously ran his hand down along the pillar with it.

 _“I can’t stand it, givin’ up control!”_ Piers passionately sang, leaning heavily on the mic stand, _“but baby…”_ He took a gasping breath, as if coming up for air out of water, and Raihan felt a shiver run down his spine. _“...that’s your only goal.”_

Raihan leaned hard against the pillar. His heart pounded in his chest, his mouth went dry, and in that moment, he wanted nothing more than to pull Piers into his arms and find out what those pouting lips felt like against his skin.

Piers took a moment to breathe into the mic as the beat picked up, and he finally started singing again. _“My heart is racin’ I can feel you’re on a roll…”_ He gripped his chest tightly and leaned forward toward the crowd, which looked very different from Raihan’s current vantage point than it did from the crowd’s. _“So give me your ev’rything, baby, ‘cause only that’ll make me whole!”_

Raihan licked his lips and tightened his hold on the pillar, and only then realized where his mind had gone.

_Uh-oh._

Piers launched into the chorus, wailing into the mic and nearly crumpling to his knees as he continued his passionate pleas, and Sebastian sat still in his chair, trying not to look over at his Leader who was clearly entranced with things other than the music.

Raihan hung onto the pillar until intermission, when he finally pried himself off of it and forced himself to sit down and try to look casual.

Piers slipped past them, heading offstage without giving them so much as a glance. He moved toward his dressing area, and this time, the energy hadn’t left. It was back here, with Piers.

Sebastian glanced at Raihan, clearing his throat a little.

“So uh, great show so far. I see what you mean about it being more intense.”

“Yeah,” Raihan said, and pretended very hard that his voice didn’t crack on the word. “And it’s… uh… even more intense this close.”

His eyes strayed toward Piers backstage.

“I can imagine,” Sebastian said, side-eyeing Raihan.

Piers was toweling himself off, getting rid of the sheen of sweat that had gathered on his skin, his leather jacket and gloves draped over a chair. Then without warning, he stripped off his tank top and shimmied out of his shorts, tossing the sweaty clothes to one side as he pulled out a new set. His bare back was to the rest of the backstage area, but no one else paid any mind to Piers standing there in nothing but his magenta boxers. Piers’ lean frame was even paler than his face and quite angular, with his backbone clearly visible. He had a couple visible tattoos, one on his upper left arm, and another between his shoulder blades, though neither could really be made out from the distance or lighting.

Raihan’s gaze lingered on that wiry frame, sliding down the clear line of his spine until he realized what he was doing and hastily looked back to the stage, a faint flush on his dark cheeks. Dammit, what was wrong with him? A shift of slender hips and a flick of tapered fingertips, and suddenly Raihan was a complete mess. 

Well, if that was the case, there was really only one thing to do. His resolve hardened as he stared at the empty stage, resisting the temptation to glance back again at a half-naked Piers. He needed to ask him out.

But maybe not during the concert. He’d already disrupted one performance already.

With a goal in mind, even if he had no idea on how to get there, Raihan relaxed, sinking back into his seat.

* * *

Raihan swaggered back into the locker room, scrolling through his victory selfies and selecting which ones to post. 

[Another victory for the Dragon Tamer of Hammerlocke! Big thanks to @GLKabuOfficial for the fiery match! Please show your support by donating to Second Chansey, giving children in need all over Galar a second chance!]

“And lookin’ good,” Raihan grinned. He tapped the screen once more and let Rotom start posting to all his accounts. He set his phone down on a bench and stripped his hoodie off, shaking the sand out and brushing off his jersey.

“Great match, bosszzt!” Rotom said cheerfully, posting his victory selfie everywhere.

The locker room was a bit chillier than usual, which was a welcome change from the heated air of the pitch.

“I thought so. Kabu’s always fun.” He bent over, shaking the sand out of his hair, wanting to get as much off as he could before taking to the showers.

“Are you going to szztick around to see the other matches?” Rotom questioned, liking the first few excited comments that rolled in on Raihan’s selfie.

“Yeah, I’m planning on it. I love a good battle.”

“Really?” came a new, quiet voice, “you’re gonna watch our match?” Allister’s unsettling mask was suddenly right in front of Raihan’s face.

Raihan shrieked and scrambled backward, tripping over the bench and landing flat on his ass.

“Allister, what the _hell?”_

The boy tilted his head to one side.

“I’ve been here the whole time… I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.” He blinked bright purple eyes behind the mask. “I’m real glad you signed up for the charity matches, Raihan. Tons of people will watch your match and donate.”

Raihan rose to his feet and brushed himself off a second time as he regained his composure. 

“That’s what I’m hoping. Thanks for coming all the way out here, by the way.”

Allister shook his head. 

“It’s the least I could do. I’m the newest Leader in the League, after all.”

“New or not, you’ve got a sizable following of your own already. A lot of people are excited about the new Gym Leader.”

Allister ducked his head in embarrassment, kicking at the tiled floor. “Thanks for the kind words, Raihan.”

Raihan dropped down onto the bench, digging sand out of his ear. 

“So, you gonna stick around Hammerlocke at all, or are you heading right back after the match?”

Allister clasped his hands behind his back, swaying back and forth. 

“Naw, I have somethin’ else to do tomorrow night, though I do want to explore the castle sometime. I’m told it’s real haunted.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that too, though I’ve never seen anything,” Raihan said. He’d only met the newest Gym Leader a handful of times and was still trying to get to know him. “I don’t have your affinity for ghosts, though.”

“Affinity?...” Allister questioned, tilting his head again, though his tone suggested that he wasn’t looking for a definition for the word.

“Oh, uh… You like them. Or… maybe more like you get along with them?”

“Hm,” Allister mused, then changed the subject abruptly. “What are _you_ doing after the match, Raihan?”

“Me? Oh…” His eyes slid to his phone. He couldn’t stop thinking about the concert last week. More specifically, he couldn’t stop thinking about Piers, with his full lips, long fingers, and slender waist, or the look in his eyes as he sang sinful words. He wanted to ask him out, but had no idea what kind of date Piers would like. Raihan sure had some ideas as to what _he’d_ like to do, but he didn’t think Piers would be agreeable to tumbling in the sheets on the first date.

“Not sure,” Raihan finally said.

Allister’s head tilted to the opposite side.

“How come?”

“I can’t decide what to do,” Raihan said honestly. 

The small boy climbed up onto one of the benches, staring up at Raihan.

“Well, when I can’t decide what to do, I ask one of my friends for advice. Maybe you could do that.”

Raihan gave him a lopsided grin. 

“That’s the problem. I want to do something with a friend, but I can’t figure out what he’d like.”

Friend. Going to a few concerts, stalking him to his house, and fantasizing about bending him over his own vanity didn’t quite qualify as being friends.

Allister perked up a bit, swaying back and forth on the bench a little.

“Does your friend like pretty things?”

“Uh…” What the hell did that mean? He supposed Piers was decently fashionable in a specific punk way and had his share of jewelry. “Probably?”

“I’m going to a pretty thing tomorrow night… but it’ll be going on all week.” He scooted closer to Raihan, dropping his voice. “But it’s a secret, okay? If I tell you, don’t tell anyone but your friend, okay?”

Raihan leaned in close to the masked kid. “I can keep a secret. I promise.”

Allister’s voice dropped down to a whisper.

“There’s a Litwick migration happening near Motostoke, down near that old bridge in the wilderness to the south of the city. Soooo many of them all get together, and sometimes Lampent or Chandelure show up.” His eyes sparkled behind the mask. “They only come out at night, of course, so it looks real pretty.”

Raihan’s eyes lit up as he imagined it. 

“That sounds amazing! Er… is it safe? Do we need to keep our distance, or…?” 

Allister nodded. “Probably not a good idea to go too close… that many fire pokemon all together can be kinda dangerous if they’re startled.”

“Okay, yeah. We can do that,” He grinned wide. “Thanks, Allister!”

The boy nodded again, then looked quizzically at him.

“...does this mean that we’re friends, Raihan?”

Raihan ruffled his hair. “Of course we’re friends. Look at all we have in common! We’re both Gym Leaders, we both love pokemon, and we think a bunch of Litwick getting together is super cool!”

Allister stiffened slightly at the touch to his head, but he soon relaxed, and his eyes smiled behind the mask.

“Y-yeah!... Th-thanks for being so nice, Raihan.”

“I should be thanking you for the suggestion!” He glanced up as a chime sounded over the intercom, indicating that the next match was ready to start. “Now get out there and do your best!”

“R-right!” Allister hopped off the bench and toddled off toward the entrance to the pitch, hair still askew from Raihan’s ruffling.

“Good luck!” Raihan shouted after him, then picked his phone back up. 

[Hey, Piers! You doing anything Friday night?]


	4. Chapter 4

Raihan stood in the grassy area outside Spikemuth’s front gate, leaning back against Flygon and playing on his phone as he waited.

A little bit after their agreed time, Piers sauntered out of the city, in slightly less flashy clothes than what he wore to his concerts and battles. He meandered over toward Raihan and Flygon in no real hurry.

“Hey Raihan,” he droned, hands in his jacket pockets, his shoulders slumped heavily.

“Hey,” Raihan replied with a grin and pocketed his phone. “You ready to go?”

“Guess so,” Piers shrugged, “though y’still haven’t said where we’re goin’.”

“Just outside of Motostoke. Got a tip about something really cool happening.” He gave Flygon a pat and the pokemon obediently spread his wings and bowed. Raihan hopped on and held a hand out to Piers.

“That sounds suspicious—” Piers started, and trailed off as Raihan held out a hand toward him, “O-oh, uh…” He eyed Flygon and Raihan for a moment before hesitantly taking his hand.

Raihan grasped his hand firmly and pulled him up onto Flygon’s back behind him. 

“Hold on tight!”

“N-no shit!!” Piers exclaimed, wrapping his arms around Raihan’s waist and holding on _very_ tightly.

“Let’s go!”

With an excited trill, Flygon tore into the air, wings beating hard on either side of them. Piers’s arms tightened around Raihan’s middle and he was surprised at how genuinely strong Piers was, considering his thin frame. 

They quickly cleared the treetops and Flygon pulled them higher and higher before easing into a relaxed glide, heading southwest toward Motostoke. The wind whipped around them, too loud to comfortably talk over, but Raihan put a hand over Piers’s arms around him. The sun was starting to set, and the sight was very different from the air. The clouds around them lit up with golden light and Galar’s rolling hills below glowed in shades of orange and crimson. He hoped Piers enjoyed the view as much as he did. 

They soared over the landscape, and the clocktower of Motostoke finally came into view as the last of the twilight started to fade. Raihan spotted the massive bridge through the wild area, recognizing it in the dark by the lights that marked either side to travelers. He guided Flygon down, passing the bridge itself, and landed in the soft grass of the wild area.

Piers clung to Raihan until they were down on the ground again, then pushed away and went tumbling off of Flygon’s back onto the field.

“Ugh,” he grunted, flopping onto his stomach in the grass, his hair an absolute mess and looking all around quite addled.

Raihan returned Flygon and stashed the ultra ball away, then looked over at Piers in surprise. 

“Piers, you okay?”

“Yep, just fine after bein’ stuck in a damn wind tunnel.” He sat up and started trying to tame his hair, which was sticking up and frazzled in every direction. “Wouldn’t’ve made’n effort with m’hair if I’d known we’d be blastin’ off.”

“Oh… uh…” Raihan patted his pockets, but of course didn’t have a comb on him. Not that a comb would do much good against the absolute Zigzagoon nest Piers’ hair had become. “Shit. I didn’t even think about that. Sorry, man.”

“It’s okay,” Piers muttered quietly, running his fingers through his hair in an attempt to tame it, “maybe let m’know next time you’re plannin’ on an open flight?... Not really used t’em, I guess. None of my pokemon’re flight-worthy.”

“Oh… I mean, I knew none of your pokemon flew, but I didn’t even think you wouldn’t like it… I just love flying so much that I…” Raihan stuffed his hands in his pockets, feeling like a complete fool. “Hey. I’m sorry. Really.”

Piers looked over at him as he continued taming his hair, and he was making pretty decent progress.

“…s’okay, no big deal, really. Jus’ let me know next time, yeah?”

“Yeah, will do,” Raihan gave him a small smile. “I’ll keep that in mind. Just didn’t want to spoil the surprise.”

He held a hand out to him to help him back to his feet.

Piers took his hand, holding it firmly as Raihan hefted him up, and continued working on his hair once he was standing.

“What exactly _is_ this surprise? We’re out in th’ middle of nowhere.” He looked up at the giant structures of Motostoke above. “Well, may’s well be.”

“Bit of a nighttime picnic,” Raihan said, and didn’t let go of Piers’s hand as he led him toward the pillars of the massive bridge. “And I got a tip that something cool was gonna happen tonight.”

Piers squinted at him, but didn’t try to pull his hand out of Raihan’s.

“Y’realize how suspicious this all sounds, right?”

Raihan laughed and led him to the spot he’d scouted out earlier, a flat, grassy area away from any trees, with a great view of the bridge. 

“Yeah, I know,” he said, letting go of Piers to slide a backpack off his shoulders. “But trust me. Aw, that sounds kinda suspicious, too, doesn’t it?”

He pulled a blanket out of the backpack and spread it out, laying it out on the ground, then pulled out some bottled drinks and snacks. He took a seat on the blanket, leaving plenty of room for Piers.

Piers flopped down on the blanket next to him, finishing up getting the last of the new tangles in his hair before tying it back, raising an eyebrow at the spread on the blanket. 

“Bit late for a picnic,” he mused, leaning back on both hands, his legs crossed in front of him. “But I guess th’kinda guy who gets ya a fruit basket is th’kinda guy to throw a night picnic, hm?” He gave Raihan a sly, teasing look from behind his messy bangs.

“I don’t know what you’re insinuating about my character, but I’m going to take it as a compliment and insist that fruit baskets are _lovely.”_ Raihan said, nose in the air as he opened up a drink for himself, but he couldn’t hold back a grin and finally laughed. 

“No, it’s weird, and I know it’s weird. But it’s gonna be cool. We just have to wait for it to get darker. Until then, we’ve got food and drinks and we can just, like… hang out. I got beer and juice. Didn’t know what you wanted.” 

He held two bottles out to Piers. Piers took the beer, cracking it open and taking a sip. 

“Mm,” he sounded into the bottle, “not a bad choice.”

Piers let the silence linger a bit as the stars started twinkling brighter in the darkness above them, slowly and steadily showing themselves as the sun retreated further beyond the horizon. He finally gave Raihan a sideways glance.

“So… what exactly led yeh t’asking me out after you stalked me an’ gave me the weirdest gift I’ve ever gotten?”

“I love your music, you’re really hot, and you had the courtesy to not call the cops on me after I acted like a self-absorbed jackass and harassed you while you were sick.” He fiddled with the cap from his bottle. “And I want to get to know you better. We’ve never really talked before.”

“S’true,” Piers said, taking another sip, “I always kinda fig’red we didn’t have much ta talk about.” He let out a sigh. “ ‘Course, I had my own wrong impressions’ve you. Thought you were just another dumb jock. No denyin’ that yer real good at battles… but never really seen y’do much else.”

He snorted. “Well, that an’ takin’ selfies.”

“I am at least a _little_ bit of a jock, I’m not gonna lie. I like working out, I like training with my pokemon, I love battles and studying strategy… but that’s not all there is to me.” He shot Piers a sideways glance. “Just how I’m sure there’s more to you than a brooding punk who hates coming to League activities.”

Piers flopped onto his back, resting his hands behind his head and crossing his legs.

“Nope, y’got me in one, dragon boy.”

Raihan laughed. 

“C’mon. I’ll tell you something about me you don’t know, then you tell me something. What do you say?”

Piers groaned, tilting his head back even further. “Really? A ‘get-ta-know-you’ game? We back in primary school or somethin’?”

“You have any better ideas?,” Raihan asked dryly. “Getting a conversation out of you is like pulling teeth.”

“Yeah,” Piers returned just as dryly, “an’ most people are terrible dentists.”

“Didn’t hear a denial in there,” Raihan noted. “And I still don’t hear any better ideas.”

Piers let out a gusty sigh. “Fine then, Professor Raihan, how about you start us off?”

Raihan grinned then took a drink. “Okay, so me first. I’m a huge history buff. I love history. Along with myths, legends, folklore, all that shit.”

A tiny smile found Piers’ face, and he eyed Raihan a bit differently. “That so? I guess you _are_ in charge’ve all that shit in the Vault.”

“That’s _why_ I’m in charge of all that shit in the Vault instead of hiring a curator. I love it. So, I’m definitely a jock, but I’ve got an intellectual side, too. Alright, your turn.”

Piers snorted, though his gaze was somehow warmer. “And y’sure like ta toot yer own horn, hm?”

Raihan threw his head back and laughed, but he couldn’t keep his gaze off Piers for long and he was soon grinning back at him. “I never said I was flawless. It has, on occasion, been brought to my attention that my well-deserved ego _might_ be a little inflated.”

The more he looked, the more fascinated he was with Piers. He thought Piers’s gig was obvious, that he was a typical down with authority, non-conformist punk. But as he watched Piers’ face, he realized that everything with Piers was layers of subtlety. A shift of his eyes, a pull at the corner of his lips, a tap of his finger, all were little tells that shared how Piers was feeling. While Raihan wore his heart on his sleeve, Piers kept his emotions close to his chest, and Raihan thought he was starting to figure out how to read him.

And, despite the bumpy flight, Raihan had the feeling this date wasn’t going terribly.

“Just a little?” Piers quipped, that warmth still in his eyes. “We’ll see ‘bout that.”

Piers turned away from Raihan, looking up at the darkening sky.

“Somethin’ ‘bout me you don’t know, huh? Hm…” He tapped one booted foot in the air. “I really like opera. ‘Specially the ones that perform with pokemon.”

“Yeah? Not all rock and roll, huh? Museums and Opera. Careful, people might mistake us for being cultured,” Raihan teased.

Piers snorted. “I fig’re we’d hafta work pretty damn hard fer people to mistake us’ve that.”

Raihan laughed again, then broke off as he saw a single purple light flickering near the bridge.

“Hey!” he hissed, dropping his voice to a loud whisper. “Look, it’s starting!”

“ _What_ is?” Piers hissed back at him, then followed Raihan’s gaze to the bridge, spotting the little purple light, bobbing along in the night. A few seconds later, it was joined by two more lights, then five more, then twenty. It wasn’t long before the entire field between the bridge’s pillars was aglow with dim purple lights. They could just barely hear the faint cries of the Litwick as they gathered and socialized, then started along a pathway beneath the bridge, moving in a swaying group through the night.

“Woah,” Piers breathed out softly, watching the sight with wide eyes, his mouth open slightly as he watched in wonder.

“Right?” Raihan said. He watched the sea of twinkling lights flow before them, drifting in tandem like a flock of birds as they floated to wherever they were heading. He stared in silence for a moment, mesmerized by the display, then glanced over at Piers.

Piers leaned forward to get a good look at the tiny ghost pokemon, gangly arms draped over his knees. His posture was as terrible as ever, though there was something simmering in his eyes, warm coals of emotion, a reflection of the flames in front of them. Sharp green eyes slid along the trail of purple fire, as if searching them for something. He was so still, it was hard to tell if he was even breathing.

Raihan couldn’t tear his eyes away, enchanted by the look on Piers’ face, and the soft glow of lavender on Piers’ pale skin gave him an ethereal look. Raihan didn’t dare move for fear of breaking this moment. Everything, the embarrassment of the interrupted concert, the stress over the fan fighting, even the damn fruit basket was all worth the trouble just so Raihan could see the wonder on Piers’ slender face.

It seemed like both an eternity and no time at all passed before the Litwick began to thin out a little, flanked by a few Lampent and one lone Chandelure, keeping watch over all of them. As the numbers began to dwindle, suddenly Piers leapt over Raihan to grab his phone. Half draped over him, he began typing furiously on it, murmuring to himself and occasionally letting out a soft note or two into the quiet night air.

Raihan jumped, not quite sure what to do with Piers suddenly hanging off him like a piece of furniture.

“What are you—” 

“Shh,” Piers quickly shushed him, still typing furiously on his phone. He hummed a few more notes, the sound mimicking the happy cries of the Litwick that were now beginning to fade away.

Raihan fell silent and tried to peer at Piers’ phone, but there was too much Piers and tangled two-toned hair in the way. Instead, he settled for falling silent and shifted slightly, getting them both more comfortable. He gently rested a hand on Piers’ back, but nothing more, letting him work.

Piers didn’t pull away from Raihan’s touch, continuing to jot down notes in his phone for another few minutes. Finally he let out a sigh, locking his phone and relaxing more in Raihan’s lap, seeming comfortable with their current position for the moment.

“That was real nice,” Piers said quietly, fiddling with his phone. “Who tipped you off ‘bout this, anyway?”

“Allister,” Raihan said. Now that Piers had gotten out the burst of inspiration that had struck him, Raihan started gently tracing absent patterns along his back. “He said to keep it quiet, though. Doesn’t want tourists disrupting the migration.”

A soft chuckle escaped Piers, tilting his head to one side, and his mane of hair slowly slid out of the way of his back.

“Should’ve known… that kid’s sure unique. Pretty sure he’s scared’ve me.”

Raihan smiled and helped brush Piers’ hair away before returning his fingers to his back. “I think I somehow ended up on the opposite end of the spectrum. Kid damn near scared the skin off me in the locker room. Quiet as a Nickit.”

Piers’ eyes glinted a little in the night, and he smirked up at Raihan. “Head too far in th’ clouds, can’t see the ghosts on th’ ground?”

“Something like that,” he chuckled. His look softened and his trailing fingers moved to caress Piers’ cheek. “Sure made for a nice date, though.”

The smirk on Piers’ lips didn’t falter, and he stared right into Raihan’s eyes, his own warm, but still containing that smoldering fire in them.

“…Guess it did. Though… yeh’d better watch out, Raihan…” He tilted his head slightly, pressing into Raihan’s touch. “…y’might be a dragon, but yeh can still get burned…”

He gently cupped Piers’ face, stroking along a sharp cheekbone with his thumb. 

“I’m willing to take that risk.”

The smoldering coals in Piers’ eyes sparked into something more substantial, and his pouty lips curled up into a slightly more substantial smirk.

“Good.”

In a fluid motion, Piers leaned up to meet Raihan’s lips with his own, giving him a soft but intense kiss that lasted as long as the Litwick migration: an eternity and no time at all.

Raihan had been around the block once or thrice, but he was still left breathless and dazed when Piers finally pulled away.

“I…” He took a breath, trying to regain his bearings. “I see your lips can do more than just sing.” 

Piers chuckled softly, sitting back and still watching him with his intense gaze.

“An’ I see yours are better fer more than just trash talk.”

Raihan grinned wide.

“Better double-check, though. Just to be sure,” he said, and leaned in for another kiss. He was met by Piers’ hand rather than his lips this time.

“Don’cha wanna savor yer first taste?” Piers scolded, but his eyes hadn’t lost the warmth in them. “It’ll spoil yer appetite if y’go too fast.”

Raihan blinked, lips against Piers’s palm, and pulled away with a soft laugh. 

“Alright, alright,” he said, though his hands still found ways to linger on Piers. “My bad. But… can we do this again?”

“Depends,” Piers responded, starting to fish something out of his pockets, “might be a harder sell if I end up a million meters off th’ ground without a damn seat belt.”

“No flying,” Raihan promised. “I’ll even call us a taxi to bring us back to Spikemuth.”

“Thanks,” Piers said simply, and stuck a hair tie between his lips. He quickly braided his messy hair and tied off the end with the hair tie. “My hair’s had more’n enough excitement for one night.”

“Aw, it’s not so bad,” Raihan said, running a hand over the thick braid. “Still looks good, anyway.”

“Flatterer,” Piers said plainly, then stood up and stretched. He carefully put his phone into the back pocket of his skin-tight pants before he started helping Raihan pack up the picnic spread. Raihan called for a Corviknight taxi, then packed up the last of the picnic with Piers and stuffed it all back into the backpack. 

“Thanks for coming out with me. And for giving me a chance,” Raihan finally said.

“Yer welcome,” Piers toned, watching the night sky for their taxi. “Thanks for bringin’ me t’see the Litwick. Beats a lame Pokestar Studios movie any day.”

“Agreed,” Raihan said. “How about you pick what we do next time? Are you busy next weekend?”

“Still as single-minded as a Ryhorn,” Piers said, shaking his head, but a smile lingered on his lips. “I got a lot goin’ on this comin’ week that I gotta focus on. How ‘bout you text me after Thursday, an’ we’ll what things’re lookin’ like’?”

“Oh, uh,” Raihan said eloquently. “Yeah. I can do that. Next week. No problem.”

“Sounds good,” Piers said with a nod, and put an arm up to cover his face as their taxi landed nearby. He clambered in with Raihan, his steel boots making a small racket in the steel taxi, but soon was seated next to Raihan as they took off and headed back to Spikemuth. He sat with his arms folded and one leg touching Raihan’s in the small taxi.

Raihan fidgeted, fussing over a stray thread on his hoodie or picking at a torn fingernail. He wanted to put an arm around Piers and hold him during the ride back, but despite all the new subtle expressions Raihan had learned today, he didn’t have a solid gauge on Piers’ mood, and wasn’t sure if he wanted some space or would be up for some cuddling.

Finally, he absently reached into a pocket for his phone and a thought struck him.

“Oh no! I didn’t get any pictures of the Litwick!”

Piers glanced at him, tilting his head a little. 

“S’too bad, mate… though it’s not bad t’get so caught up in a moment that all y’do is enjoy it.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Raihan said, leaning back in the cab seat. “It was amazing. Just wish I had something to remember it by.”

“Hm,” Piers mused quietly, “Guess y’could take a selfie now, an’ then yeh’d remember things later by lookin’ at it, right?”

“It’s better than nothing,” Raihan agreed. He pulled out his phone, then wrapped an arm around Piers and held the phone out to snap a shot of both of them.

“Smile!” 

He grinned up at the camera, and it was a genuine smile, not the publicity pose from their last selfie at the concert. Piers glanced at him, then looked up at Raihan’s phone and curled his lips up ever so slightly as he leaned against Raihan’s shoulder.

Raihan pulled his phone back and messed with the photo, slapping on a few filters until he was satisfied. 

“Perfect,” He said with a smile. “That’s one for the personal collection.”

He relaxed and stretched out, long legs propped against the opposite seat in the cab, arms resting on the back of the padded bench.

“Thanks.”

“Mmhm,” Piers hummed, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. He was quiet for a moment before he spoke again.

“Why’re y’so obsessed with takin’ selfies anyway?”

“It’s kinda dumb, really,” he said. “And you’re gonna think I’m more of a jock for it.”

Piers opened one eye to look at him. “...tell me anyway.”

Raihan let out a breath and leaned back. 

“A few years back, I started taking a photo after every defeat in battle. I didn’t want to forget the pain of losing, and I wanted to push myself to become stronger, to overcome my weaknesses, to learn from each battle. Eventually, I started taking pictures of other things, too. The gym, my training routine, my pokemon doing something funny, my fashion… and I liked it. Tiny fragments of memory that I could go back to and revisit. I don’t keep a journal or a scrapbook or any of that stuff. I just take a selfie to remember. Sometimes I post things online. I like having little snippets of my life to share with the world, and I like that people are interested in it. But, at the end of the day, the photos are for me.”

A small, warm smile found Piers’ lips and eyes.

“That’s real nice, Rahan,” he said softly. “So y’don’t post most of ‘em?”

“Nope,” he said. “They go on my computer. The ones I post are usually gym related, or just related to my image in general. And I definitely don’t post a selfie with someone else in the photo unless I have their permission.”

“That’s mighty considerate of you,” Piers remarked, then gave him a sideways glance. “An’ I’ll bet some of ‘em are a bit compromising, hm?”

Raihan blanched, his feet slipping off the seat, then he laughed and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Well… Yeah. Yeah, there are a few of those, too.”

“Mmhm,” Piers said, a smirk on his lips. “How do y’even have any space on yer phone?”

Raihan grinned. “You know, the new phones have more storage than that fossil you’ve got in your pocket.”

“Ah yes, plenty more space for plenty more dicks,” Piers said, shaking his head. “I’ll keep my dick-less fossil, thanks.”

Raihan threw his head back and laughed. “No wonder that model went extinct!”

Piers snorted, and he let out a soft laugh. A moment later, his expression was broken as he yawned wide. “Shit.”

“Yeah, it’s getting late.” Raihan looked up as he felt the cab losing altitude. “We might be coming in for a landing here.”

“Feel old as balls,” Piers muttered, glancing out the window, “s’not even _that_ late…” He soon slipped out of the cab with Raihan, paying the pilot through another yawn.

“Yeah, what happened to casual all-nighters? I swear I used to party all night every weekend, but now I pass out at midnight.”

He walked Piers to the gates of Spikemuth, lingering as he reached them.

“So… I’ll talk to you next week, then?” 

Piers nodded to him, tossing his messy braid over his shoulder. “Yep. Thanks for this, Raihan. It was real nice.”

“Thanks for coming! I’m glad you liked it.” He took Piers’ hands and gave him a mournful look. “You sure you don’t need one more kiss for the road?”

“Positive,” Piers said plainly, and he reached up to pat Raihan’s cheek. “G’night, eboy.”

Without another word, Piers turned away and slipped back into Spikemuth, his black and white braid swaying behind him more invitingly than usual.

Raihan watched him fade into the neon streets, then threw out Flygon and headed back to Hammerlock in the darkness. He couldn’t seem to stop smiling, however, the ghost of a kiss still on his lips.


	5. Chapter 5

The week dragged by slowly, and Raihan determedly waited until the following Friday before finally texting Piers. It took a significant amount of willpower, but Raihan didn’t jump to asking about their next date, and instead started with casual conversation. He initially just asked Piers about his day, and it wasn’t long before they were chatting about anything and everything over text.

It was nice having someone to talk to. He had his Gym Trainers, sure, but they were also his employees and he didn’t like bothering them after work. He was decent friends with several of the other Gym Leaders, but none of them were really the kind of friend where he could just talk about his day or send a link to a new song he heard on the radio or send a picture and ask if this new jacket made him look too much like a shitty rapper. 

Piers, on his part, was refreshingly honest. He often gave Raihan a hard time, but never enough to be truly rude, and would give him honest opinions on things. A couple times, he sent music tracks back, though for the most part, he seemed content to react to Raihan’s texts.

After a few days of casual texting, they finally set up another date, and met at a restaurant in Hammerlocke Saturday night. Dinner went well, if a bit tame, and they made idle conversation over the course of the meal.

Near the end of dinner, Piers leaned back a ways in his chair and let out a sigh. The man seemed incapable of sitting normally, and currently had one arm draped across the back of his chair with one foot propped up on the seat. 

“Can I ask y’a question, Raihan?” he inquired, giving Raihan a curious look.

“Yeah, of course,” Raihan said, pushing the last few crumbs on his plate around with a fork.

“Aside from nerdy-ass shit like the Vault, what’s yer favorite place in the city?”

“Oh, well,” Raihan started, surprised by the question, and needed a second to think about it. “There’s a really good bar on the east end of town, an awesome cafe a few blocks from here that has the best coffee I’ve ever had, a lovely park a little further beyond that… Hm… Oh! There’s my Gym, of course. And another, like, normal gym where I work out. And I can think of at least five clubs that I like.”

Piers let out a soft chuckle.

“That’s ten places, mate. Ya got a _favorite?_ I know mine, if you don’t.”

“I don’t think I could ever pick just one place,” Raihan said. “What’s your favorite place in Hammerlocke, then? Didn’t know you even got out this way much.”

“Jus’ on occasion,” Piers said, getting to his feet. “How ‘bout I show you?”

“Yeah, I’d be down for that,” Raihan rose to his feet and tossed a few bills onto the table. “After you?”

“Yep,” Piers said, then led the way out of the restaurant. He meandered through the Hammerlocke streets, seeming to be in no real hurry, and gradually made his way toward the dingier side of the city. They passed by a few clubs with pulsing music coming out of them, and Piers paused near one of them, glancing over at Raihan.

“This one of yer many favs?” he teased over the sound of the booming bass filtering out into the night.

“I’ve been here a few times, I’ll admit it,” Raihan laughed. “Though the place right over there is better.”

He pointed down the street to a dark building with an intimidating bouncer by the door.

“Yeah?” Piers said, raising an eyebrow at him, “maybe next time, eh?” 

Raihan perked up.

“Really? You’d be willing to go clubbing with me?” His eyes slid up and down Piers’ slender form, imagining him dancing in a crowded club.

“Said _maybe,_ mate,” Piers said as he started walking again, apparently heedless of Raihan’s hungry eyes. “F’right now, we’ve got somewhere else t’be.”

“I know, but it’s a thought for the future. I don’t really know anyone willing to go with me,” Raihan shrugged. 

“S’yer dancin’ really that bad?” Piers asked as he continued leading him deeper into the alleyways and dark streets. 

“Dunno,” Raihan grinned. “No one’s actually danced with me long enough to say.”

“Hm,” Piers mused, “s’ya either _are_ that bad, or they never stuck around long enough t’learn yer steps.” Finally he turned a corner into an alleyway and nodded toward a big glowing sign that most people would miss from the main street.

“Here we are.”

The sign read “BAR / KARAOKE” in glowing vertical letters with a ring of bulbs around them that alternated on and off in different pulsing patterns. Piers didn’t wait to see how Raihan would react, instead heading right for the front door.

“Karaoke?” Raihan asked, following him in. He looked around, but wasn’t put off, thinking that it actually made sense, given that Piers was a singer and all.

“Mmhm,” Piers toned, heading up to the tired-looking clerk manning the front desk with a happily chirping Spritzee. “An hour an’ a six pack, please.”

The clerk nodded sleepily, and handed over a key after Piers slid him some money. Piers led the way down the cramped hallway to the room with the corresponding number to what was on the key. He opened the door into a cosy-looking room with a table, cushy, well-worn couches, and a small stage set up with a TV and karaoke equipment. He let the door swing shut behind them and flopped down onto the couch, pulling out a giant book of song listings.

Raihan looked around the dimly-lit, comfortable room. 

“So, how does this work?” He asked, moving to peer over Piers’s shoulder at the song listings.

“Y’find the songs in here, all categorized by genre,” his slender fingers slid over the laminated pages as he spoke, “each one has a number, an’ you input th’ number over here, an’ then the song comes up. Y’can queue up a bunch, or take it one by one.”

He looked up at Raihan, eyes glinting a little in the low light, reflecting the bright TV screen.

“Think yer gonna be into this, or no?”

“I’ll admit, I’m intimidated by the thought of singing in front of _you,_ ” Raihan said. He flashed Piers a grin and leaned over him to flip through the book. “But I’m into it.”

Piers’ shoulders relaxed a bit, settling further into his usual slouch, and his lips quirked up a fraction.

“Right then, y’wanna go first or y’gonna wimp out?” 

“Oh, I’m no wimp!” Raihan said. “Besides, you’re a tough act to follow, I’d _better_ go first. Hm… Oh, this one!” 

He tapped the book, quickly memorizing the number, then headed over and typed it into the machine. He grabbed the mic and turned to face Piers, grinning wide in defiance of the butterflies that had unexpectedly started fluttering in his gut.

Piers settled back into the couch, propped his booted feet up on the table and watched Raihan with interest, his pale eyes still glinting.

Raihan pointed at him as the sharp, opening drumbeats started.

“But you can’t make fun of me!”

“No promises, mate,” Piers shot back, giving him a small smirk, his foot tapping along with the beat.

“Asshole.”

He didn’t have any more time for insults as the lyrics started and he came in a half beat too late. Despite the rough start, he was soon singing easily to the upbeat hip-hop song, quite different from the music Piers was known for. Raihan couldn’t seem to hold still, hips rocking with the beat, feet tapping, and was soon dancing as he sang. His voice wasn’t half bad and he had no trouble keeping up with the fast lyrics, but had trouble with a few of the notes that climbed above his register.

Piers’ foot never stopped tapping along to the beat, moving along with Raihan. He watched Raihan closely and didn’t interrupt, letting Raihan dance and sway with the music.

The song ended on a loud, long note that Raihan dropped as he ran out of breath before the note was supposed to end, and the song finished the last few beats without him. He laughed, flushed a little with embarrassment, and flopped down on the couch next to Piers.

“Okay, lay it on me. I can take it,” he said, cracking open a beer.

“Right,” Piers said, and leaned over, giving him a brief but deep kiss.

Raihan was left breathless, taken off guard once again by the kiss, sitting dumbly for a moment with his beer in one hand. Finally, his face split into a wide grin. He didn’t try to chase him this time, sure that trying to coax another kiss out of Piers so soon would be just as fruitless as the last time he’d tried, but his eyes smouldered as he leaned back and took a drink.

“Your turn?”

“Mmhm,” Piers toned, getting to his feet and heading over to the console. He typed in a number, then picked up the mic as a hard beat began. Guitars joined the drums, and it wasn’t long before Piers’ whole body was moving, and he started singing. There was something a bit different about his performance in comparison to his stage presence, but he was no less intense, and his voice was as crystal clear as ever.

Raihan sat back and crossed one leg over his knee, watching Piers with a smile tugging at his lips, unable to take his eyes off him. He knew he should probably be thinking about what song he should sing next, but he only had eyes for Piers.

Piers whipped his hair all over the place during the guitar solo bridge, and soon sang out one last loud note. He let out a small sigh and moved to sit back down next to Raihan, cracking open his own beer.

“S’nice t’be only singin’ for two sometimes, y’know?” he said quietly, relaxing into the well-worn couch.

“Yeah?” Raihan asked. “Well, I can do another one, and then… well, do they have any duets?”

More of a smile found Piers’ lips than ever before, though it was still slight.

“Yeah. You wanna pick one out an’ I’ll do another song?” He took a sip of the beer, then stood up again, heading toward the console without looking at the book.

“You got it,” Raihan downed another long drink and started digging through the book. “How often do you come here?”

“Prob’ly ‘bout once a month or so,” Piers said as he typed in another song and picked up the mic. “S’a nice place ta unwind an’ let out some emotions.”

“I can see that,” Raihan said as the first notes started. He flipped through the book as Piers sang, finding a few songs that looked promising, but his eyes inevitably returned to Piers.

This song was even more upbeat, and Piers was letting even more loose than he had previous, singing louder and more confidently. He loosened his hair tie and let his hair fall around his shoulders, and it swayed back and forth with him as he sang.

Raihan had seen Piers perform on stage, wearing the performer persona he put on for the crowd, but this was something different. This was Piers, being one hundred percent himself, just singing for the sheer joy of it, and the difference was remarkable. 

As the song finished, Piers let out another sigh, letting the last notes linger a bit before he opened his eyes. He meandered back toward Raihan, snagging a second mic on his way.

“Y’find a duet to try?”

“Oh!” Raihan hastily turned his attention back to the book instead of letting Piers’ last notes haunt his ears. “It’s kind of a power ballad, but I was thinking this one?”

Piers leaned over the table to look at the song he was pointing at, his hair spilling everywhere.

“Ah, yeh, I know that one. Let’s do it.” He handed off the second mic to Raihan before heading back to the console and putting in the number for the song into the console. “Better get yer ass up here ‘fore the song starts.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” Raihan made his way to the little stage, needing to get in close to Piers. His hip popped with the beat as the opening guitar chords blared. A small smile found Piers’ lips again as he watched Raihan’s popping hip, and he bobbed in time with the beat alongside him. He leaned in a fraction toward Raihan as the song began, singing along with the guitar’s opening refrain.

The song was set up as a duet, the screen showing a red “Singer A” and blue “Singer B” lyrics, the pair singing to each other and then together for the chorus. Raihan met Piers’ eyes and leaned in close for the first chorus, grinning wide, not needing to read the lyrics as he belted out the inspirational lyrics about believing in oneself and finding one’s destiny.

Piers held Raihan’s gaze as he sang back at and with him, swaying back and forth. Finally they both finished out on one long note, which Piers effortlessly held until the last chords faded away.

Raihan tried to hold the note with him, but his voice cracked and he ran out of breath. He burst into laughter as he flubbed the ending. Piers laughed softly along with him, watching him with fondness in his eyes.

“Yer singin’ too much from here,” Piers said, reaching out to gently tap Raihan’s throat, “puts strain on yer chords.”

“Well, where else are you supposed to sing from?” Raihan asked. “That’s where your voice is, isn’t it?” He gently touched his own throat, wishing for Piers’ touch again, even in that brief moment.

Piers chuckled, shaking his head. “Sure, s’where your _chords_ are, but you’ll blow ‘em out if y’make ‘em do all the work.” He slipped in closer to Raihan and pressed one hand gently against Raihan’s stomach, near his bellybutton. “Gotta get th’ power from down here, and let your chords just do the vibratin’.”

A breath caught in Raihan’s throat at the touch, warm even through Raihan’s shirt. 

“So… Just like… Deep breathing?” Raihan said, trying to focus on Piers’ words, and not his touch, or his alluring eyes, or his full lips so very close to him.

“Not exactly,” Piers said, not moving his hand just yet, “breathin’ from your stomach and powerin’ your voice with it is better’n doin’ it from your lungs’n throat. Like… try an’ breathe in from down here.” He stroked his fingers along Raihan’s stomach gently, then left his hand resting there.

Raihan took a deep breath, trying to breathe from his abdomen, feeling Piers’ hand move with the gentle rise and fall of his abs.

“Yeah, there y’go,” Piers said, patting Raihan’s stomach gently, “usin’ your diaphragm’s real important in keepin’ yer voice nice.”

“I _think_ I get what you’re saying…” he said, drifting closer to Piers.

“Yeah?” Piers said, “c’n become second nature t’sing like that if ya do it enough.”

“Guess I’ll give it a try,” he said with a grin, and ignored how his face felt hot.

Piers smiled warmly at him, the motion still slight, but it somehow felt more substantial each new time he did it. He finally moved his hand away from Raihan’s stomach, stepping back a little to consider Raihan.

“Good. Y’got a decent voice, hate for it t’be strained too much.”

Those words spoken so genuinely warmed Raihan to his core.

“Really? You think I’ve got a nice voice? Er… an okay voice, at least?”

“Oh yeah, y’can definitely carry a tune, an’ better than most. Could prob’ly sing better if y’took some lessons’r somethin’.”

“That’s not something I really have time for, not on top of all my Gym stuff,” Raihan grinned and slipped off the stage to grab a new beer. “But maybe if we make karaoke a regular thing, I can at least get some practice.” 

Piers perked up, following Raihan to the six pack, also cracking one open.

“Really? Yeh’d be up for that?” He took a sip, looking at him closely. “Y’aren’t yankin’ my chain?”

Raihan’s smile was open and honest. 

“I can’t guarantee I’ll make it every time; I _am_ pretty busy, but lemme know whenever you’re doing this. This is fun. And it’s different from the bars with just a shitty karaoke machine in a corner, and you’re singing in front of a bunch of strangers. This is just… us.”

He looked down at Piers with a small smile.

“And I kinda like us.”

Piers’ lips curled upward just slightly again, staring up at Raihan with warm eyes.

“Yeah? Well… I kinda like us, too.”

Raihan’s heart fluttered, that small smile getting more beautiful every time he saw it. He slid forward and ran a hand slowly down Piers’ long, loose hair, trailing his fingers through the soft strands.

“Good.”

Piers didn’t pull away, leaning into his gentle touch a fraction. His sharp eyes watched Raihan closely, but hadn’t stopped him yet.

Raihan was already taking a more cautious approach than he was used to, and was tense, waiting for Piers to shut him down again. He stroked his hair a little more, then gently trailed his fingers down his cheek instead, finally tenderly cupping his chin.

Piers stared up at him defiantly, as if daring him to take the chance.

Raihan met that defiant gaze and felt himself get riled up, holding his chin more firmly, then swiftly moved in for a passionate kiss.

Piers rose to the challenge, meeting him passion for passion and pressing against Raihan’s firm hold on his chin. Not just his lips worked this time, Piers’ tongue finding its way into Raihan’s mouth quickly after they locked lips.

Raihan relished in the taste of him, and let out a pleased hum into Piers. He wrapped his free arm around his slender waist and pulled him close against him, enjoying the feel of Piers’ thin frame in his arms and the taste of his talented tongue. For as thin as he was, he was far from frail, and didn’t get too flush against Raihan, his hips swayed back and forth slowly to an unheard beat. His taste was sweet, far sweeter than it should have been after two beers, and he continued dominating Raihan’s mouth for a long while before finally pulling away.

Raihan let the moment linger between them, even as Piers pulled away, and let out a slow sigh. He looked down at Piers fondly and trailed a finger along the sharp line of his jaw.

“Amazing… You’re amazing.”

Piers’ lips quirked up again, searching Raihan’s eyes with his intense green ones, and though his words were still sharp, he spoke them with a teasing, warm tone.

“Flattery’ll only get y’so far, mate.”

“Actions speak louder than words then, hm?” Raihan asked, running his fingertips down the back of Piers’ neck.

A soft chuckle escaped him, and he leaned in closer to Raihan, giving him a smirk.

“Somethin’ like that. You wanna keep singin’, or you want yer lips doin’ somethin’ else?”

Raihan’s eyes gleamed wickedly and he smirked. 

“I definitely wish my lips were around something other than a microphone,” he said, eyes trailing suggestively downward. “But I think this establishment would frown upon such activities on their premises, and I’d hate to ruin your reputation somewhere that you frequent. So for now…”

He pulled away, picking the microphone back up and pointing it at him.

“We sing.” 

Piers’ smirk remained in place, and he flipped the microphone around in his hand before putting it back to his lips, murmuring into it.

“Then sing, Dragon Boy.”

Raihan grinned and queued up another song. By the time their hour was up, they’d decided to order a second hour and another pack of beer. Then a bit more beer. And maybe some more, though he’d started to lose track by that point. Raihan’s singing grew gradually worse and his words started to slur, though despite this, he sang progressively louder.

Songs and lyrics meshed together in a haze, but Piers always remained in focus. New things popped out at him, like the way Piers tossed his hair now that it hung loose around his shoulders, or how he spun his microphone around in a way he’d never seen before, and how he always matched Raihan’s voice in their duets, never drowning him out or out-performing him. 

The more they drank, the more he also noticed how touchy Piers became. They’d sing a duet and Piers would lean against him, choosing to share a microphone instead of using the second mic. They’d take a break on the couch and Piers would keep a hand on his arm or thigh. Raihan would fumble through lyrics to a song and they’d both burst into laughter, and Piers would throw an arm across Raihan’s back as they leaned against each other, cackling over the mistake. 

A couple hours later, the two had gone through several more beers and even more songs, and finally headed back out into the night. 

Raihan had definitely had way too much, and even though he could hold his liquor, he was amazed to find that Piers could soundly out-drink him. They stepped into the night, and Raihan’s steps were less sure than when he’d walked in. 

“I _love_ this city,” he said proudly, slurring his consonants and taking a deep breath of night air. “Hammerlocke is the _best.”_

Piers sighed, supporting Raihan a bit as they headed back toward the general area of the gym and the Vault.

“Yep, s’great,” Piers said with a soft chuckle, “where d’ya live, Raihan? Yer _plastered,_ mate.”

“No, ‘m not,” He said, veering unexpectedly to the left. “Look, I’m just gonna… I mean, we’re…”

He frowned and looked up at a street sign, then squinted, as if that would help him read it better. 

“Where’re we?” 

Piers shook his head. “ ‘Bout a block away from your Gym.”

“The Gym? I _love_ my Gym. My Gym’s the _best.”_

“Uh huh,” Piers droned, almost rolling his eyes, “an’ yer house?”

“My house is the best, too.”

“M’sure it is,” Piers said patiently. “How ‘bout you show me where it is?”

“Yeah, okay,” Raihan said, then leaned on Piers as he looked around, trying to process where they were. “It’s…this way!” He lurched forward, stumbling down the street, laughing as he almost fell and clung to Piers.

“Careful,” Piers chided, catching Raihan and struggling to keep him upright. “We’ll jus’ go nice an’ slow, right?”

Raihan grumbled, but it wasn’t long before he was back to his cheerful humor, laughing with every few steps until he stumbled against a curb and looked up with surprise.

“Oh! I live here!” he said, shocked by this development, and looked up at the modest townhouse.

“Ah, tha’s good t’know,” Piers said, helping Raihan up the steps to the front door, “y’got keys somewhere? Or am I gonna have t’search you?”

Raihan laughed, loud and obnoxious. “Search me, hah! Nah, I got keys…”

It took far too long for Raihan to fish a keyring out of his jacket pocket, fumbling with it as he did so. 

“Shit, mate, gimme those,” Piers reached over and took the keys from him, trying them in the door and frowning. “....you sure we got the right flat, mate?” He looked at the number. “Number 14?”

“Nah, I live in 16. Why?”

Piers let out a loud groan. “You _absolute git._ C’mon.” He hefted Raihan down the stairs, then back up the stairs at number 16, and let out a relieved sigh as this door opened. “Thank Arceus. Now’s time fer bed, y’plastered prat.”

“I’m not a prat,” Raihan complained, but let Piers shove him inside. 

The townhouse was a little messy, but not filthy, just dishes in the sink, trash that needed to go out, and clutter here and there. Raihan’s bedroom was on the second floor, and he definitely needed a hand getting up the stairs and down the hall. Once in his room, it didn’t take much for Piers to peel Raihan’s jacket off and gently shove him into bed. It was a bit more work to get his shoes off, but Piers soon dropped those to the floor as well.

Raihan sprawled on his back and gave Piers a dopey grin.

“Hey, Piers.”

Piers sighed as he got his hair mostly back into a ponytail after the effort of lugging Raihan around had tousled it all over the place.

“Yeah, Raihan?”

“I like you. You’re the _best.”_

“Mmhm,” Piers said, unimpressed. “Yer gonna have th’ _best_ hangover tomorrow. Better sleep while y’can.”

“Are… are you leaving?” Raihan asked, the disappointment obvious in his voice.

“Yep,” Piers said simply, dropping Raihan’s keys onto his bedside table, and headed toward the door to Raihan’s room. “Go t’sleep.”

“Are you gonna… I mean… are we gonna still do this again?” Raihan asked, and there was a surprising vulnerability in his voice as he looked anxiously at Piers.

Piers paused in the doorway, leaning against it as he looked back at Raihan and smiled a little.

“...yeah. Text me once yer hangover’s finally gone.”

Reassured, Raihan relaxed and sank back into the bed.

“Mmkay. …thanks.”

“Yer welcome. ...sweet dreams, Raihan.”

Piers turned out the light, and Raihan was asleep in moments.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be advised, the rating of this fic has changed. Please review the updated tags. :3

After surviving his killer hangover and regretting everything he’d ever done, Raihan started texting Piers more frequently. Occasionally, he’d hit a point when Piers would stop replying, and Raihan would give him some space, then start back up when Piers initiated another conversation himself. Piers would usually start conversations with a link to a song or picture and then check in with him about his day or week.

They talked about anything and everything, and it wasn’t long before Raihan started trying to plan their next date, asking Piers for ideas or if there was anything he wanted to do.

[Can we stay in this time? Not really feeling like going out] came his return text.

[Yeah, your place or mine?]

[My place] There was a pause. [Just said I didn’t wanna go out]

[lmao my bad! Want me to bring anything?] Raihan lay back on his couch, watching his phone and not really paying attention to the TV in the background, a small smile on his face.

[Nah we can order takeout curry or something]

[Sounds good. Sometime this weekend?]

[got a press shoot this weekend, those always wear me right out]

[Next week, then? My weekdays are swamped, how about next Saturday?]

There was another pause, then a reply.

[thats so long, you sure you cant squeeze me in sometime before this weekend?]

Raihan stared at the text, reading it again to make sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him, then grinned.

[How about tomorrow?]

The text was immediate this time.

[sounds good. 5 ok?]

[Perfect. I’ll see you then!]

The next afternoon, Raihan was in Spikemuth, working his way through the winding streets to stand before the door to Piers’ flat. He knocked on the door. He was dressed down a little, wearing comfortable shorts and his favorite hoodie.

The door soon opened, and standing there was a young girl with jet black hair and pale eyes, staring up at him almost blankly.

“Oh!” Raihan said. “That’s… uh…”

He hastily checked the flat number, making sure he had the right place, and looked back at the girl.

“Is… Piers here?”

The girl nodded, her eyes searching him with a maturity beyond what her small frame suggested. This was all she did, however, standing in the doorway, staring intently up at him in a way that was… familiar.

“Marnie?” came Piers’ voice a few heartbeats later, “that Raihan at th’ door?”

“It’s a tall, suspicious man,” she reported stoically. 

“Yeah, that’s him,” Piers said as he rounded a corner into the entryway. “It’s okay, he’s the one I asked to come over, Marnie.”

“…hm,” was all Marnie said to that, and finally stepped aside to allow Raihan inside.

“Suspicious?” Raihan said, miffed, but entered anyway. “I’m not suspicious, am I, Piers?”

“A bit, yeah,” he answered immediately, but moved right along, “Raihan, this is my little sister, Marnie.” He rested a hand on her head gently. “Marnie, this is Raihan. He’s my friend, one of th’ other gym leaders. Th’ one from Hammerlocke.”

“Hm,” a bit of a spark appeared in the young girl’s eyes, and obvious respect entered her expression.

“He and I are gonna have dinner tonight at the flat while you go on and play with Bertie and her Zigzagoon, okay?”

“...okay,” Marnie said reluctantly. “I’m gonna need my bag an’ Morpeko to go with.”

“I know, y’can’t be without ‘em,” Piers said patiently, stroking her hair a little. “How ‘bout I go get ‘em for you, and I’ll be right back.” He glanced at Raihan, giving him a slightly questioning look. “Mind waitin’ in the living room while I get her set to head out?”

“Not at all,” he said, and headed for the living room. “Good to meet you, Marnie!”

The living room was a little less cluttered than last time Raihan was here. He noticed there tended to be black and white hair scattered about, though whether it was from Piers or from his Zigzagoons and Obstagoon, he had no idea.

Heavy bootfalls went up the stairs as Piers tromped off to presumably get things for Marnie. 

Not sure what else to do with himself, Raihan took a seat on the couch and fiddled with his phone. A couple minutes later, Marnie wandered into the room, a small Morpeko in her arms and that intense gaze fixed on Raihan.

“You train pokemon, like my brother,” she stated more than asked.

“Yeah,” Raihan grinned at her, despite the unnervingly intense look. “I specialize in dragon type pokemon. Is that your Morpeko?”

She nodded. “My brother caught it for me.”

“Aw, that was nice of him! How long have you had it?”

“A while,” she said simply. Marnie squinted at him, holding the Morpeko closer. “...no one comes t’ talk to my brother ‘bout gym leader stuff.”

“Well, I’m not here to talk about gym leader stuff,” Raihan said. “I’m here to talk about normal stuff.”

“Hmph,” she said, and her intense gaze formed into a glare. “You better be nice t’my brother, or I’ll be really mean t’you and make you _cry.”_

Raihan raised his eyebrows and his smile faded.

“I’ll keep that in mind, Marnie. But I’m Piers’ friend. I wouldn’t want to upset him _or_ you.”

“Some people _say_ they’re friends, but they don’t mean it.”

Raihan’s gaze softened. What happened to this child to make her so skeptical so young? Not to mention so protective of her big brother.

“You’re right. Some people _are_ like that,” he said gently. “But what about pokemon?”

Her lips formed into a pout, once again reminiscent of Piers’ pout, and she thought about it. “…all my brother’s pokemon are my friends… and so is Morpeko…”

“Would you like to meet one of my pokemon, and see if she wants to be your friend, too?” He asked, sliding an ultra ball off his belt.

She took a few steps back, hiding behind the coffee table, but nodded. The Morpeko in her arms made a determined face, leaning forward in anticipation, ready to take on whatever came out of Raihan’s ultra ball.

“Don’t worry, she’s very nice.” 

Raihan smiled at her and activated the ultra ball. When the light faded, he held a Goomy in his arms, and the small pokemon blinked curiously at Marnie. 

“Goom?”

Raihan smiled fondly and stroked her head. 

“People say Goomy are the weakest dragon type, but I think she’s got a lot of potential, don’t you?”

Marnie watched the Goomy with wide eyes, and nodded wordlessly.

“Do you want to say hello? You can pet her if you like, but she’s a little slimy. She likes it right here.”

He stroked her between her horns, heedless of the slime, and she made a crooning noise.

Marnie nodded a little, and started toward Goomy, but stopped as Piers came into the room, holding a small backpack.

“Oh, there’s Morpeko,” he said, glancing between the two, “you meetin’ Raihan’s pokemon?” Marnie nodded, and Piers smiled. “Well, Bertie’s waitin’ out front, so maybe later, okay?”

“Okay, Piers,” Marnie said, giving Raihan one more intense look in tandem with her Morpeko before she slipped out of the room with Piers.

“Good to meet you!” Raihan called after her as Goomy cuddled against his chest.

A few minutes later, Piers came back into the living room, letting out a sigh as he flopped down onto the couch, then glanced over at him. “Goomy, eh?”

“What, can’t I tame the cute dragons along with the badass ones?” He asked. 

The Goomy made a wet purring sound and snuggled into the crook of his elbow. Raihan laughed and stroked her head again before picking up the ultra ball. 

“Alright, sweetie. That’s enough for now,” he said, and she vanished in a flash of red light.

Piers gave him a slightly disgusted look at the slime all down his front. “She’s real cute’n all but… look, there’s a washroom just down th’ hall.”

Raihan laughed. “Yeah, no worries. I was about to ask.”

He carefully got to his feet, taking extra care not to touch anything.

“Hey, you wanna order while I clean up?” he asked. “Curry, right? I’ll take anything, so long as it’s spicy and doesn’t have beans in it.”

“Got it, I’ll order curry,” Piers responded, pulling out his phone.

He headed down the hall to clean up. The hoodie had taken the majority of the damage and would definitely need to be washed, but he managed to clean the rest of himself up nicely, and was grateful to see his shorts were untouched. He came out with the hoodie bundled up under his arm, down to his shorts and a tight, black T-shirt.

Piers was relaxed on the couch as he returned, and gave Raihan a nod. “Thanks…” He waved his phone. “Curry’s on its way.”

“Awesome,” He tossed his hoodie on the floor by the door and kicked off his shoes, then dropped down on the couch beside Piers. “Didn’t mean to make a mess. I was just trying to reassure Marnie that I wasn’t an asshole.” 

He gave Piers a sideways glance.

“She’s awfully worried about you.”

Piers sighed and nodded. “I tried to reassure her that you’re a friend, though she does worry ‘bout me.” He shook his head. “She’s too young t’be thinkin’ that stuff… but she is.”

“Didn’t even know you had a sister. She acts older than she looks, that’s for sure,” Raihan said, then gave Piers a furtive look. “Have you guys…”

He cut himself off and bit his lip, looking away.

“Nevermind.”

Piers’ brow furrowed, and he moved a bit closer to Raihan. “What?”

“I… didn’t want to bring the mood down, but… it seems like you two have been through a lot,” he said softly.

Piers’ hand found Raihan’s, holding it securely and entwining their fingers.

“...it hasn’ always been easy,” Piers replied quietly, “but we’ve made it through all right. ...thanks for tryin’ to reassure her. I’m sure she’ll warm up to you.”

Raihan gave his hand a squeeze.

“She seems like a good kid. Tough, if she’s training a Morpeko,” Raihan added with a smile.

Piers gave him a smile in return, fondness in his eyes.

“Yeah, she’s real tough… tougher than me, fer sure.”

“I dunno,” Raihan said with a grin. “You put up with me, and that’s tough.”

Piers chuckled, shaking his head.

“ ‘Bout as tough as puttin’ up with me, I bet.”

“Nah, you’re not so bad. Just need some time to get to know you and figure out that you’re secretly a sweet, sensitive guy under that prickly exterior.” He poked him in the side with a teasing grin.

An unflattering yelp escaped Piers, and he glared at Raihan.

“Don’t know what yer talkin’ about, mate.” He glanced up as the doorbell rang. “Ah, th’ curry.”

Piers slipped away from Raihan, heading to the door and retrieving the food. He meandered back into the living room, fishing around in the bag. 

“Looks like we got th’ right stuff… y’want a drink with it?”

“Yeah. Whatever you’ve got.”

Soon the two were settled on the couch with the takeout curry and beers. Piers took his time, enjoying his curry and sipping his drink.

Raihan filled the silence while they ate, chatting about the food, about the latest news from the gym, about how well his pokemon were doing.

“And she’s such a cuddlebug, you know? It’s not her fault she’s covered in a protective layer of slime. Her previous owner didn’t even want to touch her and it was obviously a bad situation. She’s so much happier now that she’s getting some actual attention.”

A tiny, fond smile found Piers’ lips as he finished up his curry.

“I thought yeh’d caught her, with how well she’s trained. An’ I never woulda guessed she’s so cuddly, with how good she is on the pitch.”

“Oh yeah, she’s extremely affectionate. And there really wasn’t anything to untrain from her previous trainer, to be honest. He didn’t really do anything with her, which is such a shame. She’s going to be a force of nature once she evolves to a Goodra, I can tell you that.” 

He finally pushed his empty takeout container away and leaned back with a satisfied sigh. 

“Good curry. I can see why you picked this place.”

“Glad y’liked it,” Piers said, cleaning up the takeout, then settling back beside him on the couch.

“So,” Raihan said, easing closer and sliding an arm behind Piers. “Other than dinner, did you have anything in mind for tonight?”

Piers, for his part, pretended not to notice. “Not really. Got some movies, some music… though th’ movies are kinda dated.”

“That’s alright,” Raihan said, and let his arm settle around Piers’ shoulders. “Classics are classics for a reason. Could also just do music and talk…” 

“Mmhm,” Piers said, lingering in Raihan’s hold for a few moments, then he stood up, heading toward the ancient entertainment center. “How ‘bout that third Toxel Titans album?”

“Sure,” Raihan said, moving his arm to the back of the couch. “I mean, I’ve heard a few of their songs, but not much else. I like ‘em.”

Piers put the music on, loud enough to hear, but soft enough to talk over, then moved back to the couch, sitting closer to Raihan than before. His thin frame easily meshed up alongside Raihan’s, and he rested his head on his shoulder ever so slightly.

“S’pretty good stuff,” he said, his eyes drifting closed.

Raihan smiled and comfortably wrapped his arm around him again. 

“Yeah,” he said quietly, and gently stroked along Piers’ arm, giving him a fond look.

Piers seemed content to stay that way for a while, resting comfortably against Raihan. His eyes were closed, but he was still aware enough to slip his hand into Raihan’s. Their fingers interlocked, and Piers let out a sigh. The music coming from the blocky speakers had shifted very gradually into something more sultry.

“Mm…” Raihan finally broke the silence. “This is nice…Haven’t heard a lot of these tracks.” His thumb stroked along the back of Piers’ hand.

“I’ll send ya with th’ album, if y’want,” Piers murmured, finally opening his eyes to look up at Raihan.

“I’d like that,” Raihan said, meeting his gaze.

Piers’ piercing gaze searched Raihan’s for a long moment. He shifted just slightly, though Raihan felt the simple shift in weight keenly against him, and his heart skipped a beat. The grip on Raihan’s hand got tighter, and Piers’ voice was so soft, it was barely audible above the music.

“…I like you too, Raihan.”

Raihan’s breath caught in his throat, enchanted by those deep, soulful eyes and the soft, deceptively simple words. He held those eyes for a long moment, then leaned in for a tender kiss.

Like a few times before, Piers met his gentle kiss with fervor, kissing him deeply. He held Raihan’s mouth captive with his own, his weight shifting again to get a better angle.

Raihan let out a sharp breath, not expecting the passionate response, and parted his lips to give way to Piers’ tongue. He pulled Piers tighter against himself, and Piers slipped up onto his lap, straddling Raihan’s hips as he kissed him more intently than before. 

Raihan let out a pleased sound into Piers. His hand slid under Piers’ shirt and slowly trailed up his back, fingers teasing along each ridge of his prominent spine. Piers’ slight waist swayed back and forth gently on Raihan’s lap. Piers ran his long fingers through Raihan’s hair, nails grazing against his scalp. Cold fingers abruptly caught Raihan’s attention, snaking their way under his tight shirt and up along his stomach. 

Raihan gave another sharp breath and his head spun. Weeks of teasing back and forth and refused kisses, and now this? He was sure Piers had just wanted to take things slow. Was he really just playing hard to get? He moaned as Piers’ hand abruptly gripped and squeezed his abs, and Piers drank in the sound as he continued to keep Raihan’s mouth fully occupied.

Raihan seized Piers’ shirt and pulled hard, struck by the sudden urgent need to have it off and out of the way. Piers gasped as they parted lips, helping Raihan a bit with his shirt, then his cool hands found their way underneath Raihan’s shirt once more. His pale eyes watched Raihan’s closely, willing him to pay close attention to his every move.

Raihan’s breath was slow and deep, and though he wanted nothing more than to feel every inch of Piers’ newly exposed skin, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Piers’ intense gaze. His hands instead settled comfortably on Piers’ bare waist and he let out a long, shuddering breath. Patient. He could be patient.

Using both hands, Piers slowly removed Raihan’s shirt, greedily exploring his torso and arms as he did so, slender fingers tracing along smoothly defined muscle. He leaned in to kiss along Raihan’s neck, his lips soft and tender in comparison to their kiss from moments ago. Raihan closed his eyes and let out a soft sigh, sinking back into the couch. His fingers left Piers’ waist to glide slowly up his bare sides, feeling his way up Piers’ body while talented lips explored his neck.

“Mm,” Piers toned, kissing his neck more deeply, sucking on the skin there, “hope y’don’t have any big tv spots comin’ up…”

“Wouldn’t tell you to stop even if I did,” Raihan said breathily. He made a soft sound as Piers’ tongue found the hollow at the base of his throat and he tightened his grip on Piers’ back, nails digging into pale skin.

“Should’ve known,” Piers chuckled, and he only worked harder to leave hickeys all over Raihan’s neck. He took particular care to leave far more where they’d be harder to hide than where they could be easily covered up.

Raihan didn’t care. Maybe he would in the morning, but right now, the only thing that mattered was the feeling of Piers’ weight in his lap and lips on his skin. A fire smouldered within him, and he trailed his hands down Piers’ back to cup his rear, giving him a firm squeeze. The smallest of moans escaped Piers’ throat, and he bit down on Raihan’s neck.

Raihan gasped out a curse and the smoulder within him flared into a blaze. He gave Piers another squeeze, then tried to slide a hand down the back of his pants, only to find that his skinny jeans were so damn tight that he couldn’t manage it.

“Shit,” he growled in Piers’ ear. “Even your pants are a tease.”

Another chuckle came from Piers, and he tauntingly swayed his hips in Raihan’s hands.

“Damn right. Guess yer hands’re just too big… but y’know what they say ‘bout a man with big hands…” His tongue trailed along Raihan’s ear.

A rush of heat ran southward and he nibbled on Piers’ earlobe.

“Wanna find out?”

Piers tilted his head back, his eyes more lidded than usual as he let out his response.

“Hell yeah.”

That was all the permission Raihan needed, and he surged forward to claim Piers’ lips in another fierce kiss, hands fondling Piers’ ass through his pants. Piers’ hands were suddenly everywhere, fervently grasping at the lean muscle on Raihan’s chest. One hand ventured down the back of Raihan’s pants, finding his bare rear and groping it with clear intent.

Raihan moaned and broke the kiss to trail his lips up to Piers’ ear. His voice was low and husky with desire.

“You wanna fuck on your couch, or should we move this to your bed?”

“Bed,” he murmured back, slipping his hands around to grab the belt loops of Raihan’s pants, tugging on them to bring their hips closer together and yank Raihan up off the couch into him.

“You got it,” Raihan kissed his neck, then wrapped his arms around Piers’ rear and stood up, lifting him easily.

Another soft moan slipped from Piers as their hips slotted together and he clung to Raihan. He directed Raihan through the small flat to his room. 

Raihan gave Piers another grope, then gently lowered him to the bed and dropped to his knees. His fingers shook with anticipation, fumbling a little as he pried Piers’ belt open and pulled on the tight jeans.

“How do you _fit_ in these?” He growled, eyes hot and eager.

A laugh, light and impish, came from Piers’ throat, and he swayed his hips to make sure Raihan had an even harder time getting them off.

“It’s a skill, mate.” He sprawled back on the bed, giving Raihan a good view as his back curved, showing off his tiny waist and his thick hair splayed out everywhere.

Unable to resist, Raihan leaned forward and kissed his stomach, gently at first, then ran his tongue along the pale skin.

“Let’s see what other skills you have, hm?” He tugged more firmly on the jeans and finally slid them off, taking Piers’ briefs with them. He sat back and took a moment to admire Piers’ nude form, eyes roaming him with an open hunger. Piers smirked up at him, watching Raihan eat him up with his eyes, half hard to show how much he’d been enjoying the attentions so far.

“Watch out, Dragon Boy,” he smirked, “yer eyes’re gonna fall out’ve yer head if y’keep lookin’ that hard.”

Raihan gave him a sly look and moved forward, stroking his hands along Piers’ thighs, fingertips just barely grazing the skin. 

“Is that so, Rockstar? Guess I better do more than stare, then…” 

He abruptly gripped Piers’ thighs firmly and ran his tongue along his length. Raihan felt the shiver run through Piers’ whole body, and a colorful curse escaped him. Long fingers immediately gripped Raihan’s hair, firmly holding him in place as a flush spread across Piers’ pale cheeks. Raihan smirked, then closed his lips around him, and the throb he felt against his tongue proved that it wasn’t just Piers’ cheeks getting heated. He gave a contented hum and took a moment to just leisurely enjoy the sensation of running his tongue along Piers’ dick, finally exploring him in a way he’d been yearning for. Piers leaned back and let out a deep sigh, holding tighter to Raihan’s hair, his eyes drifting closed.

“Y’been dyin’ for this, hm? Bet you have.”

Raihan looked up at him with smouldering eyes and slowly bobbed his head up and down Piers’ dick. He reached down with one hand to palm his own length through his shorts, getting hard just from the look on Piers’ face and the delightful sounds he was making. Piers moaned louder and deeper, moving his hips into Raihan’s motions.

“H-Hell…” 

Raihan took his time, letting Piers moan and gasp on the bed above him, but finally pulled off him and planted a kiss against the inside of his thigh well before either of them were finished. Piers relaxed a fraction, his tight grip loosening and letting Raihan pull away. Soft fingers stroked Raihan’s face, relishing the moment in quiet. 

Finally, he broke it with a soft, husky voice.

“Pants’re still on… you need help with that?”

Raihan laughed, resting his head against Piers’ leg. 

“Nah, I got it. You want me to continue?” He gave Piers a gentle, intimate kiss against his tip and his eyes burned. “Or can I fuck you?”

“Can’t do that if yer pants’re on, dumbass,” Piers said, reaching down and yanking him up onto the bed by his belt loops. Without further prompting, he deftly unclasped Raihan’s belt with one hand while the other trailed down along his length through his jeans.

Raihan laughed and kissed Piers’ shoulder, rolling his hips into Piers’ touch. He shimmied his hips, and unlike Piers’ teasing, he wanted out of his pants as soon as possible. As if in response to his thoughts, Piers’ hands slowed, and he took far too long to open his fly and ease his zipper down.

Raihan grew more agitated the longer Piers took, rolling his hips into his hands, and finally growled, teeth grazing against Piers’ shoulder. 

“Get _on_ with it.”

Piers chuckled and finally shoved Raihan’s pants down, wrapping one hand tightly around him. He gripped him hard and pumped his fist, his voice dark right beside Raihan’s ear.

“Y’really think y’can take me like that?” he scolded while Raihan suddenly found himself bucking sharply into the hand around him, “y’better show me just how hot a dragon’s dick c’n get.”

The smouldering fire in Raihan’s chest burst into a blazing flame and he eagerly rose to the challenge. 

“You want a dragon?” He roughly grabbed Piers by the hips, fingers digging hard into his skin, and roughly manhandled him to where he wanted him. His eyes burned with the same ferocity he carried on the battlefield as he growled in Piers’ ear. 

“Be careful what you wish for.”

Piers didn’t fight Raihan’s feral movements, and only spoke his own growled words back, one hand grabbing onto Raihan’s hair again.

“I _wish_ you’d go on an’ fuck me already!”

Raihan snarled and bit hard into Piers’ neck, then cut loose and gave him everything he wanted. He held him down by the shoulders, pinning him to the bed, and rode him roughly. Piers’ moans started out soft as ever, but as they both neared their peaks, his voice rose into a fervid crescendo, taking everything Raihan gave him with enthusiasm. Raihan’s growls and panting breaths provided the steady beat to Piers’ passionate song, and together they escalated into a sonorous symphony, their cries echoing through the flat. They collapsed together as the music lingered in the air, panting and covered in sweat, bodies intertwined.

Raihan lay atop Piers for a moment, chest heaving against him, feeling pleasantly light-headed. Piers pushed Raihan aside with a breathy curse and sprawled out more fully on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Raihan laughed breathlessly and looked over at him with a brilliant, albeit tired smile.

“Well, damn. That was something.”

Piers gave him an unimpressed look. 

“Yer pillow talk needs serious work, mate.”

Raihan laughed brightly and gathered Piers up in his arms, pulling him tenderly against his chest.

“Sorry, I’m not the poet between the two of us,” He gently kissed the top of Piers’ head. “You were incredible.”

Piers warmed a bit, leaning into Raihan’s touch, and he kissed his neck tenderly. 

“Y’definitely showed me th’ dragon,” he murmured against his skin.

Raihan chuckled, then sighed and sank back into the bed. 

“Glad I could live up to your expectations,” He said, closing his eyes and absently stroking Piers’ shoulder. They shared several long minutes in the quiet together before Piers leaned up to nibble his ear. 

“Does th’ dragon tire so easily?” he asked, heat back in his voice.

The words penetrated the comfortable doze he’d started to drift into and Raihan’s eyes fluttered open. He looked down at Piers in surprise.

“Huh?” He asked eloquently.

“One round an’ yer already throwin’ in the towel?” Piers raised an eyebrow at him.

Raihan’s eyes widened, then he grinned, heat already pooling in his core at the look in Piers’ eyes. 

“Of course not,” he smirked, stroking along Piers’ side.

“Good,” Piers said firmly, and he once more claimed Raihan’s lips with his own. He had far less preamble this time around, and it was as though a switch had been flipped. Suddenly, Piers was even more dominating, even more intense, holding Raihan hostage with his lips and tongue. One hand held onto his chin, keeping him right where he wanted him, and the other moved to grip Raihan’s lean rear tightly.

Raihan gasped, but didn’t pull away. It took a moment, but once he recovered from the shock, he melted into Piers’ grip with a moan. He wrapped his arms around Piers’ thin shoulders and kissed him back passionately. Piers only gave him a moment to reorient himself before his hands got even more invasive, gripping Raihan’s chin more tightly, and the hand on Raihan’s ass started making Piers’ coming intentions very clear.

Raihan smirked against his lips and pulled away just long enough to tease him.

“Intermission’s over, hm? Just needed a round to get warmed up?”

Piers’ eyes smoldered, and he met Raihan’s with a challenging gaze.

“Y’sure it was _me_ who was needin’ warmin’ up?”

Both his hands were suddenly on Raihan’s rear, holding him in place with impressive strength and starting to prep Raihan for the ride to come.

Raihan grinned and gave himself over easily to Piers’ commanding grip, not even putting up a token resistance as Piers took control. The rocker’s entire presence had shifted, and soon he had them both moaning and gasping even louder than before. Piers took what he wanted from Raihan and made sure that Raihan wanted it, too. Raihan clutched at the sheets as he experienced firsthand just how surprisingly strong Piers actually was. Piers’ long fingers dug bruises into his waist to hold him steady until Raihan was a moaning, panting, writhing mess beneath him.

The second act was better than the first, and when Piers roughly seized Raihan’s hair, yanking his head back to claim his mouth in a possessive kiss, Raihan came undone. He let out a wordless cry that Piers eagerly drank in before returning it with his own wail of passion, and left Raihan absolutely wrecked, dazed, and out of breath. Piers finally pulled away to leave Raihan sprawled on his front, limbs splayed across the bed, staring at the bedspread as he panted and wondered if he’d have the energy to move ever again. He felt Piers flop onto the bed beside him, taking a few wheezing breaths before they began to even out, syncing up with Raihan’s as they both caught their breath.

A potent, balmy energy hovered around them, leaving a faint, almost tangible emotional charge behind that the two languished in for many long moments. 

As Raihan lay recovering, Piers leaned over to his bedside table, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He lit one up and laid back with a sigh, lazily blowing smoke toward the ceiling as he basked in the afterglow.

Raihan was in such a state of bliss that he didn’t even care. He finally groaned and rolled onto his side, looking over at Piers with wonder.

“You’re just full of surprises. That was…mind blowing. I hope it was even half as good for you as it was for me.”

Piers let out a soft, musical laugh, and he reached over to stroke Raihan’s face and along his hair. “It was, don’ you worry. I’m glad y’enjoyed it.”

Raihan laughed softly and slid over to lay against him, resting his head on his shoulder. “You continue to rock my world. Is there anything you _can’t_ do?”

With a warm smile, Piers put out his cigarette halfway through it and moved to snuggle up against Raihan. Cool butterfly kisses fluttered along Raihan’s neck, along with the faint scent of menthol.

“Well, m’real shit at poker,” he offered.

Raihan laughed and gently kissed his cheek in return. 

“I’m no good, either, to be honest. No poker face. I don’t even have a poker face during battles. Don’t need to hide my strategy if you can’t beat it anyway.”

He was rambling, and he knew he was rambling, but he was so comfortable and Piers was warm against his skin, so he didn’t much care.

Piers laughed lightly, his eyes bright and warm.

“Yer better at battlin’ than me, too. Y’really shine out there, mate.”

“Thanks,” he said warmly. A moment passed and he looked back up at Piers. 

“Hey, Piers. It’s okay if you say no, but… you mind if we take a selfie?”

Surprise flitted across Piers’ face, and he considered the question.

“…fer th’ personal collection?”

“No one will ever see it but me,” Raihan confirmed.

Silence lingered as Piers considered, and finally he nodded.

Raihan’s smile split his face. He made a quick whistle and his Rotom phone was out of his shorts pocket and in his hand in an instant. 

“Smile, Rockstar,” he said, giving a tired, satisfied smile to the camera.

Piers’ gaze avoided the camera at first, but finally he looked up at it and a small, warm, happy smile found his face.

Raihan snapped the picture, then pulled the phone close, looking it over and smiling wider.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, giving Piers a kiss on the cheek. Piers’ pale cheeks burned again, and he refused to look Raihan in the eye.

“Shut up,” he muttered, and buried his face into Raihan’s chest.

Raihan laughed and wrapped his arms around him, the Rotom phone flitting off to find somewhere to sit and rest. Raihan gave him a squeeze and relaxed. Piers let out a soft sigh against his skin, settling into a comfortable position in his arms. Raihan fell silent, eyes drifting shut as he idly stroked Piers’ back.

Warm kisses came all across his chest and neck, and Piers’ tapered fingers stroked his hair gently. Then came a soft melody, drifting past Piers’ lips and floating about Raihan’s head. The notes were akin to the ones he’d sung on their first date, mimicking Litwick cries and offering an air of mystery and wonder.

Raihan smiled, lulled by soothing, haunting melody and soon drifted into sleep in Piers’ arms.

* * *

Far too soon, Raihan was awakened by Piers gently shaking him awake.

“Raihan… hey, Rai,” came his calm, soothing voice, “time t’wake up.”

Raihan groaned and curled up tighter against Piers. 

“W’time issit?” 

“S’bout ten,” Piers replied. “Marnie’ll be home soon. So I gotta kick y’out.”

“…Huh?” Raihan looked up at him, eyes confused and bleary with sleep.

“Look, m’sorry, but I need y’out before Marnie gets back.” Piers brushed Raihan’s hair out of his face. “Flygon’ll get y’home a’ight, yeah?”

“What? Oh… yeah. He can fly in the dark fine…” He reluctantly pulled away from Piers, feeling a little refreshed after the nap, but definitely still drained after their strenuous and enthusiastic activities. 

Piers didn’t rush him, slipping out of bed and getting some clothes on, yawning wide and tying his hair back into its usual ponytail. He brushed his fingers through it a bit, though it remained just as messy as before.

Raihan awkwardly got dressed and returned Piers’ yawn. He slid on his tight t-shirt and held his hoodie to his chest.

“I guess I’ll just… um…” He gestured toward the door.

‘I’ll walk ya out, y’big lug,” Piers said, shaking his head and slipping past him to lead him to the door.

Raihan relaxed a little as he followed Piers, then hesitated by the front door. 

“I’ll talk to you soon?” He asked hopefully.

“Yeah,” Piers said with a small smile, “tonight was real fun.” 

Raihan’s smile brightened. “Yeah. Let’s get together again soon.”

He leaned down and gave him a warm kiss.

Piers stood on his toes to meet his lips, kissing him back just as warmly. Raihan held his lips for a while longer, smiling against him, then gently broke away with a sigh. 

“Take care, Piers.” He waved and slipped out the door.

“You too, Raihan,” Piers returned, lingering in the doorway a moment as Raihan stepped out into the street.

Once the door closed behind him, in the cold, dank air of Spikemuth. Raihan’s smile dropped, then vanished. He slipped his hoodie back on and walked slowly through the Spikemuth streets, feeling sore and in need of a shower. Leaving late at night after sex was never the same as leaving in the morning. He felt like he’d just had a secret booty call and was now sneaking out, like he’d done something shameful. Like he’d just used Piers for the sex and was now getting out while he could.

Or like he’d _been_ used.

But that was ridiculous, Raihan thought sternly. He’d wanted Piers ever since he first heard him sing, and though Piers had taken a bit longer to warm up, he’d obviously wanted the same.

…Right?

That’s what this was, right? Just two friends having some fun. Except… friends didn’t go on romantic dates together, or any of what they’d done. They were lining up to be proper boyfriends. Obviously, Piers would think so. And isn’t that what Raihan wanted? A boyfriend? 

Raihan chewed on his lip as he walked through the streets, shoulders hunched.

Did he want a boyfriend? A relationship meant time and commitment. It meant juggling schedules to try and get together, it meant trying to keep his partner happy, it meant choosing between the things he liked and what his partner wanted. Or, at least, that was how his last few relationships had gone. And really, that wasn’t a big deal for now, but the Championship League was only two months away and they were both gym leaders and what would happen when things got busy? Things _always_ turned rough when the League started up again, and he wouldn’t have time for anyone, much less a boyfriend! What would Piers think when Raihan just up and stopped talking to him for a few months? That certainly hadn’t gone over well with his last partner.

What the hell was wrong with him? He didn’t have time for a relationship! Why did he lead Piers on like this? Because he was lonely? Because Piers was hot? Because it had been a long time since he’d been in someone else’s bed? Was that an excuse for tricking Piers into thinking he wanted a serious relationship? And _now_ what?

Raihan took a deep breath as he stepped past Spikemuth’s gate and into the fresh air. He let out Flygon and they were in the sky shortly. 

What was he supposed to do? What should he say to Piers? ‘Sorry, I promise I wasn’t just into you for the sex, but I kinda just was? Yes, I really am that shallow.’

He groaned and buried his face into Flygon’s scaled neck as the dark landscape passed them by.

Except that wasn’t quite true, either. Raihan really did like Piers. He was smart and talented and so sweet and kind under that prickly attitude. He wanted to kiss him and shower him with affection and do anything to see that tiny subtle smile. Didn’t that mean he wanted a relationship? Was being committed to someone really the same as being trapped if you were with someone you love?

_Did_ he love Piers? Could he say he loved anyone after only two dates and some admitedly fantastic sex? 

He thought himself in circles as they flew, and by the time Flygon landed, his head and heart were a tangled mess. A shower didn’t help, only tying himself in tighter and tighter knots, and by the time he finally curled in his bed and let sleep claim him, he still didn’t have any answers.


	7. Chapter 7

The morning didn’t bring any answers or solutions, and neither did the day after that. Raihan’s nerves were on edge and his gut churned with anxiety as he fell down a long spiral of his own thoughts. The fear and indecision held him for a full two days as he agonized over what to say to Piers. He was finally forced into action when Piers texted him instead.

[hey raihan did you see? Toxel Titans dropped a new music video, crazy timing]

Raihan stared at the text as it came in, so nonchalant and casual, as if nothing were the matter. Well, of course Piers wouldn’t think anything was the matter, Raihan realized. It’s not like he’d said anything to him, and the last they spoke was a cheerful farewell after a great evening.

He sat unmoving and stared at his phone as the minutes ticked by, with no idea of what to say. After a good five minutes, his phone suddenly pulled out of his hands by itself, Rotom tilting the phone a little as it looked at him curiously.

“Bosszt? You okay? Usually you always know just what to say.” Sparks escaped its frame for just a moment before it calmed. “And you’ve been unusually quiet the last couple days…”

Raihan sighed and ran a hand over his face. “That obvious, huh?”

“Kind of,” it admitted, moving to hover closer to him, “What’s wrong? I thought it was another mission accomplished two nights ago!”

“It was,” Raihan flopped back into the couch. “But then it wasn’t. Gah, I’m such an idiot. Why did I do this? Why did I think this was a good idea?”

“H-huh?” Rotom floated over him, but didn’t shove itself into his face. “I thought you liked Piers, boss… do you not like him as much now?”

“No! No, that’s not it…I like Piers. He’s sarcastic and clever and attractive and talented and a good fu— uh… he’s…” Raihan broke off with a glance at Rotom. “He’s got the voice of an angel. I do like him.”

“Oh.” Rotom processed this for a minute. “So why didn’t you text him right after you two met, like you did the other times?”

“Because I don’t know if I _love_ him. At least… not yet. I don’t think I was really thinking about what I was doing. I just had a goal and went for it. And now…” Raihan sighed. “We’re texting, we’re going on dates, we’re sleeping together…but do I really want a relationship right now?” 

“Well, um,” Rotom struggled, sparking a little again, “if you like doing it, and he likes doing it… then maybe… keep doing it?”

“Well, sure. That’s always how it _starts,”_ Raihan looked off into the room behind his Rotom, staring at something only he could see. “It’s all wonder and snuggling and good times, but eventually it becomes ‘Why are you so busy, Raihan? Why can’t you come to my sister’s baby shower? Don’t I matter to you, Raihan? Don’t you love me?’ And you _know_ how busy I am! I just don’t have the time to devote to a relationship, especially once the Gym Challenge starts up again!”

The Rotom was silent for a minute, thinking.

“Piers is a gym leader too,” it said quietly, “so he’d probably be understanding of you being busy during the Gym Challenge, don’t you think?”

“I…” Raihan hesitated. “I guess that’s true…” 

The Rotom phone vibrated, signaling another incoming text.

“Oh! It’s another text from Piers,” Rotom reported.

“What does it say?” Raihan asked, bolting up from his slouch.

“It’s a link,” Rotom said, moving in closer to Raihan’s face as it pulled up the text conversation, “do you want me to navigate to it?”

“Yeah, go ahead,” Raihan said after a moment of thought.

The link led to the aforementioned Toxel Titans music video, the sounds of one of the songs Piers had played for Raihan two nights ago coming through the phone’s speakers.

A small smile found Raihan’s face as he watched the video, thinking of his arm around Piers, enjoying the music and each other’s company.

“I do like him,” Raihan said quietly. “But all my relationships end in disaster, with broken hearts and hurt feelings. I can’t do that to him. Not Piers.”

“...okay, bosszt,” Rotom said quietly, “but try not to be too hard on yourself, okay?”

“I’ll try. Thanks for looking out for me, Rotom.”

“Of course, Raihan.” Its tone brightened up a bit. “ ...now what’re we going to say back to Piers?”

“Aw, shit.” 

He took the phone in hand and fussed for a bit, finally sending back a reply.

[I love it! Thanks for the link!]

No use in getting Piers worked up. Best to just play it cool and pretend nothing was wrong. 

He managed to keep up the facade for a week. It was easy to keep calm through text, even as his thoughts ran round and round in circles. What was he supposed to do? Tell Piers ‘Hey, this has been great, but let’s maybe slow things down emotionally while speeding things up physically?’ Shit, he felt like an asshole. Piers responded as casually as ever to their usual conversations, though eventually, a good week and a half after their last encounter, he took initiative for the first time to ask about meeting up again.

[hey Raihan, you up for meeting later this week?]

Raihan chewed on his lip as he stared at the text. He couldn’t put off seeing Piers forever.

[Yeah. Where and when?]

The reply was very quick, which was a little unusual for Piers.

[whenevers fine, and maybe in your neck of the woods this time?]

Raihan thought about his answer, wondering what Piers was thinking, and stared at the innocent text as if it would give him an answer. 

[Sure. Public or private?]

[private] came his second quick response.

Raihan stared at this text even longer. Did he just want to fuck again? Which was fair, all things considered. The sex had been fantastic. But was that all Raihan wanted? Maybe that was true at first, but now? 

He had no idea what he wanted.

[My place, then?] he texted anyway.

[sounds good. tell me when and ill come]

Raihan flipped quickly to his calendar, checking his schedule.

[Friday night?]

The text took just a bit longer this time, and was as eloquent as the rest.

[ok see you then]

Raihan agonized over his next response, wanting dearly to know what was going on in Piers’ head.

[Sounds good!]

* * *

Friday came all too soon and Raihan wasn’t even close to sorting his feelings out, tangling himself into tighter and tighter knots. As Friday afternoon wore into Friday evening, he finally decided that the best course of action was going to be to pretend that nothing was wrong and see what Piers wanted. It was a little after seven when a knock came at Raihan’s door.

Raihan was dressed casually and opened the door with a smile that was just a little too tight. 

“Hey, Piers! Come in!”

“Hey Raihan,” Piers said smoothly, slipping into Raihan’s house. He was also dressed more casually, and he fiddled with the choker around his neck as he looked around. “How’s yer week been?”

“It’s been okay,” Raihan said, leading them to the living room. “Kinda busy.”

Not nearly busy enough to keep his mind occupied, he thought sourly.

“Tha’s good,” Piers said, trailing along behind him, “nice t’see yer house when y’aren’t slobberin’ drunk.”

“Oh, uh… yeah,” he said. “Sorry about that. So… did you have anything in mind, or just wanted to get together or go out or something or…” 

He spoke a little too quickly and couldn’t bring himself to meet Piers’ gaze.

Piers’ brow furrowed, and made an effort to look Raihan in the eye.

“You okay, mate?” he asked, searching Raihan’s expression, “yer actin’ a bit odd.”

“Oh, I’m…” he tried to say fine, but the word wouldn’t come, and his smile wavered. “…I’m…” 

Concern entered Piers’ face, and he stepped in closer to Raihan, still holding his gaze.

“…what’s wrong?”

“I…” He finally cracked. “I’m such an _idiot,_ Piers!”

He dropped onto the couch and put his head in his hands.

“I’m so stupid! I keep trying to get my head on straight and I just keep getting more and more twisted up!”

Both eyebrows raised, Piers sank down onto the couch next to him. He rested a hand on Raihan’s shoulder, his voice more soothing than usual, and no teasing quip came this time.

“What’re you talkin’ about, Raihan? What’s wrong?”

“It’s…it’s us,” he swallowed, and the guilt was thick in his voice. “I don’t know what I want us to be. And I know that sounds super shitty after last week, but after I left I just kept thinking about everything that happened and I started freaking out and—” Words fell out of him like a dam breaking free. “Everything started with just your music and watching you on stage and you were so passionate and so hot and, like, I’m not super into one-night stands so I wanted to get to know you first and then I _really_ started to get to know you and you’re so fascinating and even though you come across as prickly, you’re so sweet and caring and I want to get to know you even more, but _shit,_ I don’t know if I’m ready for that, you know? But the sex was amazing and _you’re_ amazing, but that’s even worse, because nothing I’ve ever had has worked out, and I don’t want to lose this too, but I don’t even know what this _is_ or what we are or what I want us to be or if I really want that at all.” 

He buried his eyes in the palms of his hands to hide the tears seeping from his eyes.

“I’m a fucking mess, Piers,” he said thickly. “You should ditch me while you can.”

There were a few moments of silence, and Piers’ hand started gently stroking his shoulder and back.

“Guess we haven’ really talked much ‘bout that stuff,” he said quietly, still stroking him as he spoke. “M’sorry… I uh… I guess I’m still misjudgin’ you, Raihan… I figured you were a guy t’fly by the seat a’yer pants.”

“S’okay. I know what kind of an impression I give off,” He wiped his face with a sleeve. “And that’s kinda what I was doing at first. But now I’m in too deep, and I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I’m not boyfriend material, Piers. I’m always so busy, I’ve never been able to really give someone what they need.”

“Well, okay,” Piers said slowly, “so yer not sure ‘bout commitment, is that what’m hearin’? An’ worried y’can’t give me… what I need?” He tilted his head, looking a bit unsure about the last part.

Raihan fell silent, thinking about it in those terms. 

“That might be what it is,” he said, shame in his voice. “Commitment means responsibilities and time and sacrifice. And, trust me, I know how shallow that makes me sound. And you…”

He finally looked over at Piers, his eyes gleaming with tears as his voice choked up again. 

“You deserve better.” 

_“Hey.”_ Piers’ voice got rough for a moment before it softened. “All that stuff y’said? Time ‘n sacrifice? Everyone’s gotta give an’ everyone’s gotta get. That’s how relationships work. Not jus’ ones where folks’re exclusive, not jus’ ones where they’re friends.”

He gave a gentle squeeze to Raihan’s shoulder.

“If y’wanna keep goin’ down this road, sounds like we need to figure out how much each of us can give.”

Raihan was silent for a long moment and stared at his knees, mulling over Piers’ words.

“I like you,” he finally said. “A lot. You’re beautiful and soulful and kind, with just enough attitude to keep things interesting.”

He turned his gaze toward Piers, his heart laid bare. “I like you enough that I’m afraid of messing this up.”

“What makes y’so sure that it’d be you bein’ the one messin’ things up?”

Raihan blinked at him, not having even considered any alternative.

“Erm… experience, I guess?”

Piers let out a hefty sigh.

“Stuff like this’s a two way street. An’ I’m not always th’ best at drivin’ how people like… plus, y’still haven’t seen all the baggage I’ve got ridin’ with me.”

He gave Raihan a stern look. “And _you_ deserve someone who’ll give y’time an’ sacrifice things for you, too. Y’aren’t nearly as shitty a person as yeh insist on thinkin’ y’are.”

Raihan stared at him as if he’d grown a second head, then his lip finally trembled as he took in Piers’ words. He lunged forward and threw his arms around him, burying his face into his thin chest.

Piers startled, then relaxed, slipping his arms around Raihan.

“...seems like’m not the only one who’s had it rough.”

Raihan let out a shuddering gasp and slowly relaxed in his arms.

“...thanks, Piers.”

“Don’ mention it, Raihan,” he said softly, starting to stroke his back.

Raihan stayed that way, secure in Piers’ arms and soothed by his gentle fingers, for a long while. Finally, he let out a long breath and pulled away. His eyes were red and puffy, but he was marginally under better control and wiped his eyes with a sleeve. 

“Ugh. I’m a mess. I really didn’t mean to just break down like that on you.”

“S’all right,” Piers said, reaching up to gently wipe away the rest of his tears with well-practiced motions. “If yer worryin’ about it, we should talk about it.”

“Yeah. Okay,” he took a deep breath and sank back into the couch. “Everything was fine until I left your place last week. And, like, everything was great, but as I was leaving I just started thinking about us and the bigger picture, not just trying to get into your pants.”

He gave Piers a sideways glance, and had the decency to look chagrined.

“If you hadn’t realized, when all this started, I was thinking with my dick more than anything else.”

A snort escaped Piers, and he wore a small smirk. 

“Yeah, kinda worked that one out on m’own.” He leaned back a little on the couch, propping one leg up onto the cushion and wrapping a hand around his ankle.

Raihan gave him a weak smile. 

“Yeah, well… that’s how it started, at least. You were so hot on stage and your music is so good. But I didn’t wanna just have a one and done night, you know? I wanted to get to know you. And then we were suddenly dating and it wasn’t until I was walking home that I started wondering what we were or what you wanted us to be and I freaked out.”

Piers shook his head with a small chuckle. 

“Okay… so forgettin’ what y’think we are now... what do _you_ want us t’be?

Raihan fell silent and gave the question some serious thought. 

“I really like you. You’re smart and sarcastic and sweet. And the sex is amazing. I want to keep seeing you. But I’m afraid things will get too busy and fall apart when the Championship League starts up again. And yeah. I guess I’m afraid of commitment, too. So… I don’t know what that makes us.”

Piers shrugged.

“Sure. I like you too, Raihan. An’ I agree that y’can’t be my top priority. But what we’ve had so far is real nice. Even if yer a bit’ve a lughead.”

Raihan managed a soft laugh.

“That’s fair. So… maybe just see where this goes?” He reached over to take Piers’ hand. “And maybe I’ll give you a heads up the next time I’m gonna have a breakdown?”

“Might be nice,” he said, giving Raihan’s hand a squeeze and smirked good naturedly at him. “Should’ve guessed a guy who takes me on a romantic nighttime picnic _while_ he’s thinkin’ with his dick’ll probably have a lot more heart than one who jus’ drags me back to their place t’fuck.”

“What can I say? I’m complicated,” Raihan said, finally giving him a smile. “I hope that’s okay.”

“So long as y’don’t mind _my_ complications,” Piers returned, “but y’seem to be holdin’ up pretty well. Tyin’ yerself in knots, instead’a worryin’ ‘bout my shit, seems like.”

“Nah, I don’t mind,” Raihan said. “And maybe when they come up, we can work out our complications together.”

Piers gave him another smirk.

“Like boyfriends?”

Raihan groaned and threw his head back into the back of the couch. 

“That’s what we are, aren’t we?” He said, then laughed. “Dunno why the word freaks me out so much.”

Piers laughed softly along with him.

“Look… I’m all for still doin’ what we’re doin’... and keepin’ it light. Yer a real thoughtful guy, Raihan. Already goin’ out of yer way for me, and dealin’ with my shitty attitude. I like y’a lot more than other people… an’ yer sure as hell the only other Leader t’even try an’ get ta know me.” He tugged at the necklace around his neck, his gaze trailing away from Raihan’s. “But I can’t say yer my number one. Marnie’s my number one… an’ I’d drop you in a second for her. Shitty as that sounds t’say out loud.”

“Hey,” Raihan gave Piers’ hand a squeeze. “That’s okay. She’s family, I get it.”

Piers nodded, and held onto Raihan’s hand. 

“...thanks for understandin’.”

“No problem.”

Raihan sighed, and the last of the tension melted out of him. There was still uncertainty in the future, but it felt like a bright adventure before him, and he wasn’t alone. He sank against Piers and tucked his head into Piers’ shoulder. He smelled like menthol and children’s shampoo, and Raihan took a few deep, calming breaths. Piers slid an arm around him, and Raihan slowly relaxed in his embrace.

“Oh, shit!” Raihan sat up straight. “You came over here for a reason, and I totally hijacked the evening!”

A soft chuckle escaped Piers and he tugged more insistently on his choker, not looking at Raihan.

“Yeah, uh… after all that, s’gonna be pretty damn awkward.”

“What do you mean?”

“I um,” Piers rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I wrote you a song.”

“You… you wrote me…” Raihan stared at him, dumbfounded. 

“Yeah,” Piers said, still looking sheepish and rolling his eyes, “a real good way t’show that I like y’a lot but m’not sure I’m in love with you.”

“Piers, that’s…” Raihan felt himself choking up again. “That’s the sweetest, most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever done for me. Can I hear it?”

Piers laughed, more openly and brightly than ever. 

“Of course, you dummy, why d’ya think I came over here?”

He slipped away from Raihan and stood up, moving to stand in front of Raihan in the middle of the living room.

“This a good place?” he asked, his hands searching the air and finding nothing, “miss my mic stand already.”

“Yeah, fine with me,” Raihan said and got comfortable on the couch, sitting cross-legged. “Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

Piers nodded, taking a breath. “Yeah, this is good.”

He let out that breath, closing his eyes and relaxing. It only took a few more breaths for him to calm more fully into his usual, terrible posture. Then, with his eyes still closed, he began to sing.

_“There are times when all I see is darkness,_

_There are times when all I feel is cold,_

_All wrapped up in the blackest of thoughts,_

_With nothing to have or to hold._

_Night can be a comfort,_

_So quiet, so calm, and pure,_

_But it can be so hollow_

_Such a burden to endure._

_Never thought I’d want a light_

_To see me through the gloom,_

_Never thought I’d feel a light_

_Warm enough_

_To make my heart bloom._

_Couldn’t have seen it coming,_

_Your flame burning in the night,_

_And once it overtook me_

_Everything became so bright_

_Burning me up, oh_

_Searing my insides_

_Setting my heart all alight._

_But the brilliance made me realize_

_That a wick was always there_

_It just needed a glowing flame_

_To ignite my heart with care._

_Never thought I’d want a light_

_To see me through the gloom,_

_Never thought I’d feel a light_

_Warm enough_

_To make my heart bloom._

_Light a candle with your own_

_Then see how the light has grown_

_Now you are more radiant_

_Than you could have ever_

_known.”_

  


The last note faded into a silence that rang in Raihan’s ears. He rose from the couch and crossed the room to gently take Piers’ hands in his own.

“You wrote that… for me?”

A small gasp came from Piers as Raihan took his hands, and he opened his eyes, looking up at Raihan with a warm gaze.

“...yeah. Got all inspired when we saw th’ Litwick… an’ then when y’kept textin’ an’ bein’ so nice…” He shrugged, his eyes trailing away from Raihan’s. “I meant it when I said I like ya.”

Raihan didn’t hesitate, and leaned down to claim Piers’ lips in a kiss. 

Piers gasped softly again, though it was into Raihan this time, and soon he was kissing back deeply. He snagged the front of Raihan’s shirt and held him there.

It was a long moment before Raihan pulled his lips away, and he wrapped his arms around Piers’ waist and held him close.

“So,” he said with a grin. “How long before I hear that on the radio?”

Piers’ brow furrowed as he leaned against Raihan, one hand clenching the back of Raihan’s shirt tightly.

“You won’t. I wrote it fer you… no one else. It’s real personal… I don’t share _all_ my music.”

Warmth blossomed in his chest, touched by Piers’ sentiment. Tears threatened to well in his eyes once again, but they were offset by the smile on his face. 

“Your private collection, huh?” He said, and trailed the fingers of one hand through Piers’ hair. “I get that.”

Piers chuckled softly, nuzzling his face into Raihan’s chest.

“Yeah, I guess y’do.”

Raihan let out a long sigh and held Piers close, rocking gently side to side with him, the haunting melody still echoing through his head. 

“Thank you, Piers. This means the world to me. Really.”

“Yer welcome,” came his quiet response into Raihan’s shirt. “An’ well… since it’s jus’ for you… anytime y’wanna hear it, let me know.”

“I will,” Raihan gently kissed the top of his head. “And, I know it isn’t really your thing, but you’re welcome to any of my selfies with you. If you want.”

“Hm,” Piers looked thoughtful, “I might look through yer phone sometime. Might not want th’ ones with me in ‘em, though.”

“I’m cool with that. Just don’t tease me over some of the solo shots, okay? They’re private for a reason.”

“ ‘Course,” Piers said, his thin fingers stroking the back of Raihan’s neck, “those’re probably the ones I’ll wanna keep.”

Raihan’s face flushed and he pulled Piers closer. 

“Guess we’ll just keep taking this step by step, even if we’re taking all the steps out of order.”

Piers shrugged in Raihan’s arms, and leaned up to kiss his neck.

“Some people walk side by side, some people just ahead or behind one another…” His voice got more sultry as he nibbled on Raihan’s ear, standing on his tip-toes. “...but isn’t it far more fun to dance?”

A smile pulled at Raihan’s lips and his heart soared. 

“Then let’s dance, beautiful.”

“Love to.”

Piers began to sing the melody of the song he’d sung earlier, soft and soothing, swaying more purposefully with Raihan. His movements grew more sensual as they danced through Raihan’s living room, fingers now knowing just where to stroke and press to draw sounds out of Raihan to join the notes floating about the air.

Raihan’s smile was wide and his heart full, and he found it was an easy thing to let Piers lead. They danced slowly toward the hall, accompanied by the gentle melody of their song. Piers’ slender fingers easily found their way underneath Raihan’s shirt, stroking his skin as he guided Raihan along in time to the music. Raihan let out a soft moan and trailed his lips along Piers’ neck.

Dull echoes of Piers’ heavy boots made a percussive beat along the hallway floor, his voice reverberating along with it. He discarded Raihan’s shirt at the base of the stairs without breaking tempo. Piers used the belt loops of Raihan’s pants to tug him up one stair, then another as he accentuated certain lyrics.

Finally, he slid away from Raihan, holding one note far longer than the others as he led the way into Raihan’s room. Raihan’s heart soared, beating in time with Piers’ rhythm. And as they lay beside each other hours later, covered in a new sheen of sweat and basking in the afterglow, Raihan realized just how excited he was to see where Piers would lead him next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and following us through this fic! This is what happens when we try to write a one-shot PWP, by the way. 30k words of emotional fluff with a dash of angst and literally only one chapter of smut. Stay tuned, we have an exciting Fantasy AU coming up next, and it'll be our biggest project yet! Let us know what you think in the comments!

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was co-authored by TearsontheRocks, who actually understands the prickly mess that is Piers. You can find her on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/tearsontherocks) and [Tumblr!](https://tearsontherocks.tumblr.com/)
> 
> You can find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/SadinaSaphrite) and [Tumblr](https://sadinasaphrite.tumblr.com/) as SadinaSaphrite.


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